Daria Ravenclaw Highland Years
by Meester Lee
Summary: The early years of Daria Morgendorffer, a muggle-raised witch, in Highland, Texas.
1. Chapter 1

Daria and its characters are the property of Glenn Eichler and MTV/Viacom. Harry Potter and its characters are the property and creation of JK Rowling. I own neither and neither expect nor deserve financial compensation for this story.

It was a small one-story wooden house with novelty siding and a cheap asphalt-shingled roof built during a building boom that coincided with a build-up of manned bombers during the early Cold War. The boom ended when the Air Force had closed the nearby air base and its original owners moved away. The house passed into the hands of a landlord, then to another, and then to a small speculator who hoped that there'd be another drilling boom in the Permian Basin and that he could profit from it. Meanwhile, the hot Texas sun continued to beat down on the house no matter who owned or rented it. The house was sold to the Morgendorffers a few years later when Jake and Helen Morgendorffer arrived in Highland with their two daughters in a battered car and battered ideals to take advantage of a drilling boom out in the oil fields. The grass struggled to survive the heat and the lack of water, even with the husband's recourse to the water hose.

The boom receded, but the Morgendorffers stayed on. Helen Morgendorffer commuted the thirty five miles to the law firm where she worked in Midland while Jake worked at a wholesale supplier's and dreamed of setting up his own consulting business. Both parents looked after their daughters even if they didn't always understand them and even if some of the things they did were a trial.

The two Morgendorffer daughters did not get along with each other. The older one, Daria, tended to be solitary and played with her own toys. The younger daughter, Quinn, was far more outgoing and gregarious. As toddlers, Five year-old Daria and three year-old Quinn assumed that Daria would be the older sister and that Quinn would be the younger one. That was the way it was, at least since Quinn came along, and that was the way it was going to be until they went away to college, which seemed sometime way off in the distant future.

As the Morgendorffer daughters grew older, Jake and Helen began to suspect that their eldest daughter wasn't quite normal. Daria had been an unusually quiet baby except, of course, when she wanted to be fed or have her diaper changed. Her eyes constantly roamed around the room and she often seemed to be listening to strange, silent things that only she could hear. There was a time between when Daria started to crawl and when Daria went off to day care that Jake and Helen started to worry that their eldest daughter might be autistic. But no, Daria did learn how to talk, she could pay attention (at least when she wanted to), and she could and did converse with her parents and her younger sister Quinn, although these conversations tended to be short.

But not always. Sometimes Daria asked questions that seemed so unusual and so profound that Jake not only found that he couldn't answer them, but he suspected that even full-blown college professors would have difficulty answering them, too.

Daria was strange in other ways. Weird, inexplicable things started to happen almost as soon as little Daria learned to walk. A cartoon frog with a charging plug for a tail appeared in the living room at the same time Helen's cordless portable phone went missing. Another time Helen's car wouldn't start and when the mechanic popped open the hood, he discovered that her car's engine block was fused solid. Helen's car was still under warranty, but it took her a couple of weeks before the block was replaced. A couple of years later, two of her father's golf clubs had taken the shape of elongated flamingos.

Despite the magical outbursts, Daria's childhood continued to have a patina of normalcy. Daria wasn't particularly friendly or outgoing child, despite the fact that she started to talk before she was three. She did make one friend; a young girl named Cindy Wise, the daughter of one of the few friends Helen and Jake made in Highland. Happily, Cindy lived down the block and across the street. Cindy was also an avid fan of picture books, they enjoyed playing with dolls together, occasionally drew pictures, and listened to some of the old vinyl records Helen and Jake had brought with them from Austin when they moved their family to Highland. Cindy introduced Daria to her friends Linda and Jessie. Sometimes, under Helen's prodding, they'd include an increasingly active and talkative Quinn in their play, although Quinn found that Jessie's younger sister Dale was more interesting.

Daria's strange episodes usually happened at home with only family present, but not always. Once Daria ran out into the street without looking to retrieve a ball that Cindy threw at her that got away; Daria remembered seeing a car's front end bearing down on her, hearing the car's horn and the screech of brakes, then suddenly finding herself safely on the other side of the sidewalk on the other side of the street. Helen and Jake never actually Daria's near-brush with the car, but they heard about it later from Cindy's mother and from Quinn.

If a grown-up had asked Daria if she liked Highland (None ever did), Daria would have said that she didn't like it. It was hot in the summer, boring, and outside her small circle of friends, most of the people she met were stupid or uninteresting. Her parents didn't like Highland that much, either.

Daria's world began to change when she turned five. She was now old enough to go to kindergarten. That fall she enrolled at James Ferguson Elementary School with a lot of other Highland-area children. Like most kindergartners, Daria learned her ABC's and numbers, even if she couldn't manage reading and writing quite yet. Jake helped there; he'd already shown Daria the letters of the alphabet and how to count even before Mrs. Hollings began to teach numbers. But if Daria couldn't read and write quite yet, she suspected that she could enjoy reading stories when she learned how.

As Daria wrote much later, "My first writing lessons used pencils. We spent our first lessons drawing the alphabet, then actually printing words. Most of my little classmates weren't very good at writing or printing and we not only needed pencils, but we also needed erasers. A couple of the kids were so bad that they wore their erasers down to the metal strip by the end of the second week of school. After that, they were constantly trying to borrow other people's pencils or they'd talked their parents into buying rubber erasers of their own."

Jessie's Mom was a calligrapher, and let her daughter and Daria try their hands at writing with feather quills. The experiment did not go well with Daria; her paper was covered with lots of messy ink blots. She told herself that it would be a _long_ time before anyone ever made **_her_** write with a feather quill again.

Daria's and Quinn's world shifted another way one afternoon when they came home from day care. "Girls," said Jake Morgendorffer, "Your mother and I have an announcement." Their father was smiling. Daria relaxed. Dad usually frowned and occasionally shouted when something bad was going to happen and Mom was usually tense.

"What's the announcement, Dad?" asked Daria.

"It's a surprise, girls," said Jake. "We'll all wait until your mother gets home."

Daria and Quinn waited expectantly in the living room for Mom to come home from the office. Quinn fidgeted and paced. Daria started going through a picture book she'd borrowed from the Wises.

"I wonder what the announcement is," she wondered. "Maybe we're going to move. " She liked Cindy and Cindy's friends, but she hated Highland.

Their Mom came in what seemed forever, but was only an hour later.

"Hello, Girls," said Helen. "Your father and I have an announcement, as I'm sure he's told you."

"You haven't told them what the announcement is yet, have you, Jakey?"

"No, Helen," Jake said, his good cheer diminishing slightly at Helen's tone of voice. "I was waiting for you to come home before I said anything."

Helen flashed a smile at Jake.

"Well, girls," said Helen. "I've got good news. I'm pregnant. I'm going to have a baby."

"But you already had babies," said Daria. "You have us."

"Well, Daria, sweetie," said Helen. "I'm going to have another one."

"Is it going to be a boy baby or a girl baby?" said Quinn.

"I don't know yet," said Helen.

"It's going to be a girl," said Daria. She didn't know how, but she **_knew_**.

Jake's eyes widened. He recognized that tone of voice. Sometimes his oldest daughter had these flashes of certainty and, much to his wonder, whatever Daria said when she had them somehow came true. Jake had no idea as to why a five year-old girl's predictions would come true, but somehow, some way, Daria's almost always did.


	2. Chapter 2

Daria and its characters are the property of Glenn Eichler and MTV/Viacom. Harry Potter and its characters are the property and creation of JK Rowling. I own neither and neither expect nor deserve financial compensation for this story.

Daria Ravenclaw The Highland Years Part Two

"Is it going to be a boy baby or a girl baby?" said Quinn.

"I don't know yet," said Helen.

"It's going to be a girl," said Daria. She didn't know how, but she _**knew**_.

Jake's eyes widened. He recognized that tone of voice. Sometimes his oldest daughter had these flashes of certainty and, much to his wonder, whatever Daria said when she had them somehow came true. Jake had no idea as to why a five year-old girl's predictions would come true, but somehow, some way, Daria's almost always did.

"Well, Daria, we'll see, Sweetie," said Helen.

"So where is the baby?" said Daria. "Is it in the hospital? Can we go see it?"

"No, Sweetie," said Helen, "the baby is inside me and when the time comes I'm going to go the hospital so they can help me get it out. Then the baby and I will come home."

"Oh," said Daria. She wondered how a baby could get inside Mom. She wondered how old you had to be to get a baby inside of you. She'd have to ask Mom sometime, but this wasn't the time to do it.

"So when is the new baby coming?" said Daria.

"Not for months and months yet," said Helen. "In the meantime, we'll all have time to get ready for when it does come."

"Can we name the baby?" asked Quinn hopefully.

"Sorry, Sweetie, but your father and I are going to be the ones give her her name," said Helen.

The news that Mom was going to have a baby and that they would have a little brother or sister was so big that Daria and Quinn put aside their usual rivalry. In fact the news was so big that they weren't able to go to sleep as fast as they usually did, even after their mom turned their lights out..

"So Mom's going to have a baby," said Quinn. "Maybe she'll be home more."

"That would be nice," said Daria. "Then we could do more stuff together like we used to."

Mom used to stay home and do things with them when they were younger, but with every year those times had grown less and less.

That didn't happen. Life continued much as it had before Mom's announcement. Either Mom or Dad would drop Daria at kindergarten in the morning and then take Quinn to day care, then in the afternoon either Dad or Mom would take Daria to day care, then one of them would drive them home in the evening.

September changed into October and the days of October ran out to the last weekend before Halloween. That weekend, Daria learned that Mom and Dad were going to a costume party. Daria thought the idea of Mom and Dad playing dress-up, even for Halloween, was a little funny. That was something Mommies and Daddies didn't do; it was only the kids who got to dress up for Halloween. Nevertheless, Daria thought that Mom looked very pretty in her witch's costume, but Dad looked silly in his wizard's outfit.

There was a down side to Mom and Dad going to their costume party: they'd have a baby sitter. Normally, Mom and Dad would let them spend the night over at the Wises' and the Markhams', but they were going to the party, too. Mom found another sitter at the last minute. Daria didn't like the way the sitter looked at her and her sister when her Mom turned away and she had a horrible orange hair-dye job.

"Girls, this is Mrs. Cummings," said Helen. "She is going to watch you this evening.

Daria's suspicions proved correct almost as soon as her Mom and Dad left the house. Mrs. Cummings was mean. Almost as soon as Mom and Dad left the house, Mrs. Cummings ordered the girls into their bedroom, then turned the television up about as loud as it could go. Daria and Quinn tried to roll with the punches. Figuring that Mrs. Cummings was distracted by the television, Daria turned the lights in their bedroom back on and the girls set about amusing themselves: Quinn by coloring in a coloring book, Daria by re-arranging the furniture in her doll house.

Apparently than wasn't good enough for Mrs. Cummings. She threw open the bedroom door and yelled at both girls to get back in bed.

The girls lay sullenly in their beds, the lights out.

"I wish she'd go away," said Quinn.

"Me, too," said Daria.

"I wonder what she'd look like with green hair," said Quinn.

"That would be neat," said Daria.

Despite the fact that both girls were angry at Mrs. Cummings and bored with being stuck in their bedroom with the lights out, they eventually went to sleep. Just before Daria drifted off into Dreamland, she fervently wished that Mrs. Cummings' hair WOULD turn green.

Both girls awoke shortly after midnight when Mrs. Cummings started yelling at their Mom and Dad. The baby-sitter was not happy.

"My hair turned green and it's your bratty children's fault!" screamed the baby sitter.

Helen glared back at Mrs. Cummings, at cigarette stubs put out in an old metal ashtray she and Jake had bought as a souvenir, and at an opened can of beer on the coffee table across the room from the television.

"When you agreed to babysit my girls, we agreed that there would be no smoking or drinking," she said in a voice that stopped short of a low growl, "I suggest we settle at the rate we agreed on beforehand or I start spreading around feedback about just how well you do your job."

"But my hair turned green!" shouted Mrs. Cummings.

"And my daughters did it?" said Helen sarcastically. "A five year-old girl and her three year-old sister overpowered you, marched you to the bathroom sink, and gave you a bad dye job?"

"Yes!" shouted Mrs. Cummings.

"Well, in that case I suppose you could dial 911," said Helen sarcastically, "but somehow I doubt you could sell your story to Highland's finest or the county sheriff's department. There's a phone over by the couch if you'd like to try."

"We can do this one of two ways," said Helen. "You can settle at the rate we agreed on beforehand, or you can attempt to take your claim to small claims court and see if a judge and jury will buy it." She put a small pile of bills on the coffee table.

Jake watched Helen watching Mrs. Cummings. _This must be the way Helen acts in court_ , he realized. He could almost see the shark's teeth. He was proud of his wife and a little frightened of her at the same time.

Mrs. Cummings looked balefully at Helen and Jake, picked up the money, stalked out the front door, and slammed it behind her.

November followed October and the Morgendorffers had a Thanksgiving dinner at home. Jake cooked the meat while Helen cooked the vegetables. For once, Jake's efforts with the turkey were edible, although Helen made both Quinn and Daria promise not to tell their father that she'd hidden the pepper and the chili powder over at the Wises'.

That December, Jake followed his little family's tradition and put his electric train set around the Christmas tree like he'd done last year. One morning before Christmas, both of her parents found little Daria fast asleep near the tree, the train still chugging around the track. Alarmed and reproaching himself for not unplugging the transformer the night before, Jake reached for the power outlet to unplug his train and found to his astonishment that the cord wasn't plugged in.

January merged into February and one day Helen corralled both Daria and Quinn for a briefing. "Now I want you and Quinn to be on your good behavior this evening, because we're having a baby shower for me and Veronica," she said.

"What's a baby shower?" asked Quinn. "Are the ladies going to come over and wash babies?"

"No, Sweetie," said Helen. "A baby shower is like a party where the guests give the future Mommy baby things so she'll be ready when the baby comes."

The ladies started coming over an hour later. Of course Mrs. Wise and Mrs. Markham came to the shower. So did a couple of the other neighbors. There were also some ladies from the office where Mom worked. A couple of them dressed a lot like her Mom did, but most of them dressed less formally.

Daria asked if they were all lawyers like Mom, but learned that a couple were lawyers, a couple were paralegals, and others were something called "staff."

Mom's baby shower was something like a birthday party, only Mom was getting presents, and none of them looked like toys. Instead, they were baby clothes and bottle warmers and a baby seat.

"I hope that we aren't giving you things you already have, Helen," said Mabel. Mabel was a secretary who had been at Mom's office for years.

"Oh, no," Helen replied. "I had a lot of Daria's and Quinn's baby things back when we lived in Austin, but we didn't expect to have any more children, so I sold them or gave them away before we moved to Highland. These are a god-send."

"Are you going to use cloth diapers and a diaper service?" asked Mrs. Conners. Mrs. Conners was another lawyer at Mom's office.

"I tried to be organic and used cloth diapers last time, but this time I'm using disposable ones," said Helen. "As I grow older I find I make adjustments."

"What charming girls you have, Helen," said Mrs. Collins. Mrs. Collins was married to one of Mom's bosses.

"Thank you," said Helen with a smile.

Despite the fact that the ladies were nice and as friendly to her as they were to Quinn, Daria started feeling uncomfortable. Worse, she could tell that some of the funny stuff was about to happen. Sure enough, it did. A couple of blue bubbles were floating six inches above the carpet behind Dad's favorite chair.

Daria hoped that nobody would see them, but Mrs. Flores saw them. Daria thought she saw Mrs. Flores give her a strange look, pull a funny-looking stick from her handbag, flick it at the bubbles, and made them go away.

Mrs. Flores gave Daria another strange look. Daria looked back at her. Mrs. Flores turned away.


	3. Chapter 3

Daria and its characters are the property of Glenn Eichler and MTV/Viacom. Harry Potter and its characters are the property and creation of JK Rowling. I own neither and neither expect nor deserve financial compensation for this story.

Half-Bloods and True Grit

It was a cold and dreary day at Grimmauld Place. The sun was hidden by thick clouds and a cold wind swayed the branches of the trees and bushes of the small, ill-kept park across the street from the town house.

 _What had befallen the House of Black_ , wondered Walburga Black. Centuries of history, a heritage stretching back even before there was a Britain and before the cursed Muggles cut down the sacred oak groves and harried the Druidic orders into extinction, threatened to gutter out like an old candle that had burned all the way through its wick. _And our line will fade into extinction_ , she brooded. Her sons wouldn't carry on the name of Black. One son, the eldest, turned blood-traitor and was then thrown into Azkaban by his so-called allies, the younger son, the good son, had been killed by the Dark Lord. There were no others; not even daughters to share the seed of the House of Black. The thought depressed her.

She was still in her dark mood two days later. Father had invited her to his new London pied-a-terre and she had accepted his invitation. He'd moved out of the family townhouse and into a place of his own.

She was going to decry the end of her branch of the House of Black as she had so often since Regulus had been murdered at the hands of the Dark Lord, but for some reason that evening, her father decided that he wasn't going to have any of it.

"I'm tired of hearing it!" said Father. "You do have a granddaughter, you know."

"I have a _what_?" said Walburga. "A granddaughter? Who told you that?"

"I first heard it in a roundabout way from Dumbledore," he said.

"I don't trust anything I hear from that scheming old trickster!" shouted Walburga.

"I don't have to," her father replied. "I made my own investigations and found that I do indeed have a great-granddaughter." He smirked. "Sirius, of all people, fathered her," he said.

"Who? Someone he impregnated in Azkaban?" asked Walburga sarcastically.

"No, someone he impregnated before the Aurors took him," said her father. "About a year and a half before the Potters died and the Dark Lord was cast down."

"One of his starry-eyed Muggle-born admirers?" she asked.

"No, someone outside his usual circle of admirers," he said, "an American woman named Helen Morgendorffer."

Walburga frowned. She didn't think much of Americans. American Muggles were disgustingly egalitarian and thought that the worst of filth were equals to high priests and kings. Worse, the wizarding folk there had contracted the egalitarian disease from their Muggle counterparts.

"I presume that she was some unpedigreed Yank witch without the slightest idea as to what really mattered," said Walburga waspishly.

"No," said Father.

"A filthy Muggle?" she said incredulously.

"A Muggle. She looks like a Barksdale, though," said her father. "She was married. Satyr's biscuits and alcohol, you know."

"So where is the girl's mother and her husband living right now?" she asked.

"They're currently living in Texas," said Father.

Walburga knew just enough American geography to know that Texas was in the southern or western part of the United States. They spoke English, or at least English of sorts, although she had serious doubts whether it was the sort of English spoken by properly-bred people.

She was reminded of the time her two young sons had disobeyed her, hopped onto the Muggle Underground and gone to the cinema. She'd searched several theaters and found the two watching a Muggle movie titled _True_ _Grit_. She took both boys home, scolded them, and watched coldly as their father thrashed them for their misbehavior.

Nevertheless, for some reason she found herself intrigued by what she'd seen on the movie screen while waiting for the right moment to pounce on her errant sons. She went back to the cinema alone, bought a ticket,and watched the movie from beginning to end by herself. After all, what was life as a member of the great and powerful Black family without secrets and compartmentalization?

The plot she could relate to: the Muggle girl Mattie Ross riding out on horseback to avenge her father's murder, hiring the bounty hunter Rooster Cogburn, then joining Cogburn and LeBouef as they rode after her father's killers.

She could admire Mattie. The girl may have been a weak and helpless Muggle, yet she was willing to risk deaths and injuries that wizarding folk didn't have to worry about. Mattie had her vengeance, even if she nearly lost her life and lost her leg in the process. Walburga subsequently searched out a copy of the Muggle book upon which the movie was based and had been disturbed to learn that Mattie Ross never had children.

Nevertheless, the thought of a young witch, pure-blood or Muggle-born, growing to womanhood in such a barbarous environment appalled her.

"So what do you propose the family should do about her?" she said.

"For now, I think we should do nothing," said Father.

"But that child is…" she began.

"All of five years old," he said. "It is usually difficult to tell whether she is as great a sorceress as Circe or as void of magic as the stupidest Muggle when children are that young."

"But the stain to the family honor…" she began.

"Is far less a risk to the fortunes of the House of Black than its extinction," he said.

He could see that she didn't want to think of this.

"We'll speak of this no more this evening," he said. "Let us finish dinner, then see what the house elves have prepared for dessert."

Ten days later, Marlena Reardon came to call. She and Walburga had know each other for years, beginning when they had been eleven year-olds in Slytherin House's girls' dormitories. They'd been friends through marriages, child-births, the Grindelwald War, the Voldemort War, and deaths natural and from curses.

Walburga brought up the existence of her recently-found granddaughter and her Muggle mother. Marlena wasn't as sympathetic as she'd hoped.

Marlena told her as one friend tells another that having a granddaughter with a Muggle mother wasn't an utter catastrophe. "You know that the Dark Lord is himself a half-blood," she said.

Nor would Marlena accept Walburga's counter-arguments. "A half-blood in the family is a temporary reversal of fortune," she said. "Extinction is more permanent. A half-blood and her progeny can be married off to suitable wizards and witches of respectable families, and over the course of several generations, whatever Muggle influence can be rendered negligible."

Nor did Marlena drop the matter. "I've had some interesting talks with members of some of the magical clans of East Asia," she continued. "Like some of our old families, they, too, have occasionally outcrossed with Muggles or barbarians over the centuries. The difference between them and many of the old families here in Britain and in Europe is that the East Asians not only think in terms of single generations and multiple generations, but also over centuries. From their viewpoint, outcrosses with Muggles might be embarrassing, but it means less and less as one century succeeds another."

"I don't want to think about it!" said Walburga. Of course, the way she heard herself say it, she knew that she would.

She was still irritable several days later when Kreacher served her breakfast a couple of days later and allowed herself to be distracted.

The walls of the townhouse were not so thick that they kept out the sounds of her Muggle neighbors. Some of them ran the Muggle wireless, others ran the telly, still others ran record-players or stereos or whatever Muggles called them.

The neighbor on the second floor of 11 Grimmauld Place fancied himself an intellectual and liked to listen to BBC news programs. This morning they were broadcasting an interview about some Muggle historian's new book. She would have ignored it had she not heard the word "Texas."

"There was an old saying about Texas that it was hell on women and horses," said the author. Walburga wasn't sure she believed the author, but his quip gave her food for thought. Perhaps it might remain true? If what the author said was still true, any woman who survived such a test of her mettle would have to be tougher than the common ruck. She hoped so.

It was now time to make a decision. She decided to work an old spell she'd learned in divination class to help her decide which course of action she should take.

She hadn't tried to work this spell in years. She first made the potion she was going to use, changed into a shift, lit the candles, then cast the spell.

She'd thought to consult the omens or seek some vision from beyond the bounds of normal time and space, but instead she found herself turning inward instead of outwards. She surprised herself by the question she asked herself: was it better for the House of Black to continue, even if the last daughter was a half-blood, or should she stand by her old beliefs and let the House of Black wither into extinction?

She came up from her trance much later with her answer, surprising herself by her choice.

 _Blood traitor_ , she mockingly told herself.

 _So be it_ , she told herself.

She hoped that Texas was still as hard on women as that Muggle author said it had been a century and a half ago. The girl would have to be tough to survive as a Black at Hogwarts. She still remembered her years as a Slytherin, not just the pride and the glory, but also the personal feuds, the hatreds, the temptations of alcohol, Muggle drugs, and some of the darker potions, as well as the no-holds-barred jockeying for power and position not only within Slytherin House but in the larger arena of Hogwarts.

She wished that the girl would be a Slytherin like her mothers and her mothers' mothers before her, although that might be too much to ask for. She feared that her granddaughter would most likely be sorted into some other house.

 _Please, not Gryffindor_ , she thought.

The girl probably knew nothing or next to nothing of the history of the Noble House of Black.

She couldn't bring herself to meet the half-blood in person, so she decided to write her a letter. There were so many things she wanted to say, so many things she wanted to tell her, but there were so many other things she wished to keep to herself, so many old secrets she didn't feel that the girl was entitled to know.

She had an errand-boy, an impoverished scion of hedge-witches, that she occasionally used for shopping. She had him buy a ream of blank white paper. Even Blacks had to watch their knuts from time to time.

There were things to be said, important things, and she couldn't say them all in one go. She decided to first write a draft on paper, then write the final draft on parchment. She went through one sheet of paper after another.

The stack of paper was a lot thinner when she wrote what she wanted. She'd written just two sentences on a blank sheet of parchment:

"You're a Black. Live with it."

She signed it, then sealed it in wax with a Black family seal.

She would hand the parchment to her solicitor and hope that he or his successor would forward it to the girl at the appropriate time.

She hoped the girl would have the true grit to carry on the legacy of the House of Black. She'd need it.

Author's note: This chapter was a surprise to me when it started moving from my fingers to the computer's keyboard. It doesn't appear in the version of Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years that I'm posting over at PPMB. The version that I'm posting here has the remaining Black family elders either being ignorant of Daria Morgendorffer's existence or choosing to ignore it.

In this chapter, I decided to explore what might happen if Daria's Black great-grandparents and grandmother become aware of her existence and took a more realistic stock of the Black family's fortunes. It does not follow JK Rowling's canon.

In this alternate universe, the elder Blacks realize that the First Wizarding War has cost them dearly. With the exception of Andromeda Tonks, read out of the family for marrying a Muggle-born, and Narcissa Malfoy, there aren't any Blacks of child-bearing age left; the ones who aren't dead are in Azkaban Prison. Arcturus and Walburga Black's part of the family has been hit even harder than the rest of the family: Daria Morgendorffer is the only youngster it has.

The elder Blacks may still believe that pure bloods should rule magical Britain, but so far the next generation so far only contains two mixed-bloods and a male pure-blood related to another House. for the next generation, the family motto of "Always Pure" may devolve from a family tradition to an ideal. This does not mean that the elders of the House of Black will whole-heartedly welcome mixed-bloods and Muggle-borns into their fold; any young witch or wizard born to a Black mother or Black father had better be strong, have brains, show magical talent, and show true grit. As far as they are concerned, whether little Miss Daria possesses such qualities remains to be seen.


	4. Chapter 4

Daria and its characters are the property of Glenn Eichler and MTV/Viacom. Harry Potter and its characters are the property and creation of JK Rowling. I own neither and neither expect nor deserve financial compensation for this story.

Daria Ravenclaw Highland Years Part Three Wrap

Daria's life after her Mom's baby shower went on much as before. Either Dad or Mom, usually Dad, drove her to kindergarten and then took Quinn to day care. After school, Dad or occasionally Mrs. Wise or Mrs. Markham, would take her to day care, where she and Quinn would stay until Dad picked them up after work. Daria still played with Cindy, Jessie, and Linda; Quinn played with Dale.

There were some differences. Mom and Dad didn't let them buy as many things as they did before Mom started expecting. Mom also didn't stay at work as long as she used to and started coming home earlier.

Both Daria and Quinn saw that Mom started wearing larger clothes. Daria had noticed a couple of other grown-up women who had gotten bigger and knew why Mom had to buy new clothes, but Quinn didn't.

"Mom," said Quinn. "Why is your tummy getting bigger?"

"Quinn, Sweetie, that's the baby," said Helen.

"I thought the baby was at the hospital," said Quinn.

"No, Sweetie," said Helen, "the baby is growing inside me."

One of the things that Daria remembered later was that when Mom was pregnant with Veronica, she'd get cranky, snap occasionally, and send her and Quinn to the corner for stuff that used to be OK. Once in a while things got so tense that Dad would get in his car and bring home something Mommy wanted.

Daria continued to go to kindergarten. One of the things Daria began to learn in kindergarten was that sometimes adults said things that weren't always true. One of her substitute teachers told her class about the saying that March came in like a lion but left like a lamb. Daria wasn't sure she believed her. She'd seen spring flowers sprouting during the first week in March, but sometimes there could be a cold snap as late as the end of the month.

Easter was on April 7th this year. Helen took Daria and Quinn to the Highland Methodist Church for Easter services. Daria was impressed with the number of people who showed up for church. So was the minister, who said he was overwhelmed by the unusually large crowd and invited them to come back next Sunday. Jake sat uncomfortably in the pew with his pregnant wife and two daughters. In spite of that, Jake stayed with them after services and cheered his daughters on when they went Easter egg-hunting with the other children.

Daria's sixth birthday came two days later. Daria was disappointed that more people didn't come to her birthday party, but her Mom said that everybody must have been partied-out because of Easter. Nevertheless, Daria and her few friends had a small party with cake, ice cream, and a couple of leftover chocolate Easter bunnies. Mom's tummy had gotten bigger; Mom said that the baby would come soon, but she wasn't sure when. Mom did go to the doctor's to see how the baby was doing, and Daria noted that both her mom and dad were relieved that everything was OK. That worried her. Nothing could go wrong, could it?

Later that month, their old refrigerator died and her parents got a new one. Despite the fact that Daria and her younger sister Quinn wanted to keep the box it came in as a play house, Jake and Helen set it out on the curb for the trash man to pick up. Before the trash man could take it away, Daria dragged it into the back yard and announced that the refrigerator box was her house, then drew windows, shutters, and green shrubbery on the box's exterior. Daria first planned to visit her new play house and sleep in her room with Quinn, but after a particularly noisy and rancorous quarrel between her parents, Daria moved out of her room she shared and into her box. She remained there for two days until a particularly violent thunderstorm thoroughly soaked the corrugated box and rain started seeping through the cardboard. Jake went out into the pouring rain, reached into the box, and brought his shivering daughter back into the house, washing and drying her off before putting her to bed. Dad and eldest daughter reconciled, life went on at the Morgendorffer home.

By early May, Mom and Dad had started talking about the baby coming soon. Mom had gotten very big. She no longer walked around the house so much as she waddled. She still went to the office, but didn't stay as late as she used to. Daria and Quinn knew that the new baby would come soon now. They were right. One afternoon, Dad picked them up from daycare and took them over to the Wises' house.

"Girls, Daddy and Mommy have to go to the hospital to pick up your new little sister," said Jake. "It's going to take a while, so you'll be staying with Mr. and Mrs. Wise until the baby comes and Mommy and the baby are ready to come home."

That was OK with Daria. She and Mrs. Wise's daughter Cindy got along OK with her and Quinn.

"How long will that be?" asked Quinn.

"I don't know, Smidget," said Jake. "It will take as long as it takes."

"I'll call you when the baby comes out," he added.

Jake thanked Mrs. Wise for looking after his daughters, closed the door and walked out to his truck, where Helen was waiting in the front seat.

Quinn started crying almost as soon as the door closed. "I want Mom," she said.

"Hush, hush," said Mrs. Wise, taking Quinn in her arms. "Don't worry about your Mom, she's tough. We can all think good thoughts for her, but crying won't help."

"Girls," said Mrs. Wise, "there's not much to do except wait."

Cindy gave Daria a gentle nudge. "Hey, Daria," she said quietly . "I got a new Lego set. Do you want to help me build a house?"

"Sure," said Daria.

Cindy brought out her new Lego set, spilled the bricks on the floor, and after she and Daria discussed just hall long and wide their Lego house would be, the two older girls quietly set about building it. Cindy invited Quinn to help put the Lego house together, but Quinn huddled by herself, hugging her stuffed animal.

Daria didn't remember what time that she and Quinn drifted off to sleep that night, but she did remember being at the Wises' breakfast table the next morning when the telephone rang.

Mrs. Wise went to pick it up, smiled, and turned to the two Morgendorffer daughters seated at her breakfast table.

"Girls," said Mrs. Wise, "It's your father on the phone." She handed the receiver to Daria.

"Daria, Quinn," said Jake, "I've got good news. Your Mommy's all right and you now have a baby sister. Her name is Veronica."

Mom came home from the hospital a couple of days later. She and Dad were all smiles and Mom had a blanket in her arms with what looked like a small round face and two small pink hands. She sat down in a comfortable chair in the living room and pulled back the blanket that had covered the bundle she cradled in her arms.

"Girls," she said. "This is your little sister Veronica."

Little Veronica looked a little like the baby dolls Daria had seen other girls playing with, except that she was even smaller and more fragile than the smallest doll-babies that Daria had ever seen. Daria suspected that Veronica was probably going to be as annoying as Quinn was. But for now at least, she looked kind of cute.

Now that Veronica was here, Mom no longer went to the office. Mom told Daria and Quinn that she'd be working part-time from home until Veronica was old enough to go to day care. It was a little weird but mostly nice to have Mom home. Daria thought that her Mom would enjoy watching cartoons with them, but she didn't. Instead, she usually kept the television set to the educational channel and rationed the amount of cartoons Daria and Quinn could watch. She did make an exception for Animal Planet and other wild life shows, and Daria and Quinn learned more than they ever wanted to about elephants, dolphins, snakes, and owls.

Mom no longer paid quite so much attention to Quinn. Instead, she paid much of her attention to baby Veronica. Quinn was not happy about way things had changed. That didn't bother Daria so much. If Mom wasn't paying quite as much attention to her as she did before Ronnie was born, she wasn't paying that much attention to Quinn, either.

School ended for the summer, but instead of going to day care, Daria and Quinn went home.

Ronnie was not a quiet baby. She cried when her diapers needed changing, when she needed to be fed, and occasionally when she was frightened by something. Mom had told her and Quinn that Quinn had been a noisy baby, while Daria was a quiet one. Ronnie was somewhere in between, although Daria didn't know by how much.

A couple of months after Veronica was born, Daria woke up to find that there was somebody else in her bedroom. It wasn't Quinn; her sister was sound asleep in her bed across the room. Nor was it her mom and dad; they and baby Veronica were sleeping in their own bedroom. It wasn't somebody Daria recognized; it looked like an old lady wearing a funny black hat. The old lady was about the same age as some of the old ladies Daria had seen on Sundays coming out of one or the other of Highland's churches, just better dressed. Nor was the old lady substantial; Daria could see right through her. For a while the old lady looked like she was trying to say something to her but couldn't. The old lady then looked like she about to cry. She stood there and watched Daria for a long time, gave her a sad smile, then lifted her arm and waved at her. Daria waved back at her; what harm could that do? The ghostly woman then turned and glided through her bedroom wall into the back yard.

Seeing the ghostly old lady bothered her. So did the fact that she couldn't really talk about it with her family. Daria wasn't sure she could talk about such things with her Mom. Sometimes Daria saw things that her sisters and her playmates didn't see and more often than not, her Mom told her that she was imagining things. But she wasn't, even if nobody else could see them, and they weren't really solid like a house or a car or like people, like that time when she couldn't sleep, walked to the living room, and saw what looked like ghostly cowboys driving a phantom cattle herd down Whirlwind Drive.


	5. Chapter 5

Daria Ravenclaw Highland Years Part Five

Daria and its characters are the property of Glenn Eichler and MTV/Viacom. Harry Potter and its characters are the property and creation of JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. I own neither and neither expect nor deserve financial compensation for this story.

That August, Daria entered first grade. Things were different now. She now got graded for her behavior and schoolwork, and her Mom and her Dad told her that they expected her to work hard, pay attention to her teachers, and try to get good marks.

The transition from kindergarten to first grade wasn't a complete change; Daria recognized many of the kids in her class from kindergarten. There were also some new students as well. Most of them were either Mexican or Mexican-American kids, but some were Anglos and Afro-Americans.

Daria wasn't bothered by her first writing assignments. Letters were already old hat and she had good penmanship. She was still friends with Cindy, Jessie, and Linda, but she didn't go out of her way to make friends with the new students.

There were several kids that were particular irritating. There were two obnoxious boys named Beavis and Butthead and there were also the Aldrete sisters. The two boys were stupid, noisy, inattentive, and destructive. They seldom paid attention to the teacher, occasionally pushed the other students, and were usually the first with particularly stupid questions or comments or to disrupt lessons in other ways. Nobody liked them.

The Aldrete sisters were irritating in a different way. It wasn't that the Aldrete sisters fought each other or made rude noises like the two boys. They actually got along with each other very well. But one would start giggling, then the other. Or one of them would start teasing the girl or boy in front of her, then the other would start in, too. It didn't matter whether the teachers sat the Aldretes next to each other or far apart; the Aldrete craziness would still happen. A couple of the boys tried to shove one or the other of the Aldrete sisters. They quickly learned that was a bad move; their shoelaces would become undone, their backpacks would fall off, or they'd trip and fall when carrying their lunch trays from the cashers to their tables.

That September, Cindy joined a ballet class that met after school. Jessie joined her a week later. Curious, and still harboring secret romantic visions about ballerinas she was too embarrassed to tell anyone, Daria joined the class too.

Daria came to love the ballet class, or at least the way her first teacher taught it. Years later Daria could still smile when she remembered Miss Genevieve. Ballet seemed so different from PE. It wasn't following the PE teacher's orders like a bunch of cows at a stock show; Miss Genevieve never yelled. If she had to correct her pupils' movements, she did it by example and by gently guiding her girls' arm and motions.

Daria also liked how she looked when she saw herself in the mirror dressed in her practice outfit. She thought she looked very pretty, like a real ballerina, when she put it on.

She and her small circle of friends would go to ballet class after school. They weren't the only children there. There were several other girls from Highland's white families, and also An, a Vietnamese-American girl whose parents had settled in Highland, Jasmine, an Afro-American girl, and also Martita and Luz, both of whom were Mexican-Americans who had lived in Highland all their lives.

It was also fun and a little more challenging when Miss Genevieve put on music and they had to dance without Miss Genevieve calling out what movements they were supposed to make. They'd occasionally miss steps or timing and Miss Genevieve would gently point out where they went off-track. Sometimes, though, it would go wonderfully, and Daria could sense herself keeping in rhythm with the other girls and becoming one with the music.

"I wonder why there aren't more boys taking ballet lessons?" said Gail. Gail was blond and pretty and also liked to watch the cheerleaders when her parents took her to see their older brother's football games. Daria already thought that cheerleading was stupid, but she was a little jealous of Gail's good looks and how gracefully she could dance.

"I don't know," said Jessie. "Some of the videos Miss Genevieve showed us showed male dancers. There have got to be some boys taking ballet lessons somewhere."

"I think that's because so many of them are chicken," said Daria. "I've heard that they're afraid of being called homos."

None of the girls were quite sure of what homos were or what they did, although they knew that many of the people in town thought they were horrible.

"Boys are weird," said Linda. Daria had to agree.

"We'll have to do without them," said Cindy.

Daria and the other girls slowly learned the basics. Some of them involved dance steps, but not all. They learned how to use the stretch bars before they danced, the five basic positions, and how to use their arms and hands as well as their feet to dance. They also learned new dance steps, first without, then with music. At first they were clumsy and their movements failed to match the tempo of the music. However, with time and practice, she and the other girls slowly gained more confidence, feeling like they, too, were like real ballerinas, howbeit younger and somewhat shorter than the ones they saw on videos.

Quinn often had to accompany Daria to Daria's ballet class, sometimes willingly, sometimes not. Quinn didn't like Daria's ballet classes. In part, Quinn didn't like it because she was too young to go to ballet class herself, and when she had to go with Daria to the class, she wasn't allowed to dance. Daria couldn't tell if her younger sister was just jealous, bored, or both.

Whatever her younger sister's motives, Daria had to endure Quinn's venting at the dinner table.

"Why can't I dance with Daria!" she said. "I want to go to ballet, too!"

"Quinn, honey, you're only four!" said Helen. "You can go when you're older! And you're already going, Sweetie. You can learn by watching Daria, so you'll get a head start when you're old enough to go."

Quinn remained unmollified, and started mocking Daria and her ballet lessons when the girls retired to their bedroom.

Helen decided that her oldest daughter was now responsible enough to spend the night at friends' houses on a regular basis. Daria occasionally had sleepovers at Cindy's and Jessie's houses. Daria also hosted sleep-overs at her house, usually on the nights that Cindy's mom and dad got together with Jessie's mom and dad and had what they called career brainstorming sessions.

Jake did not put up his train set that December. Baby Veronica hadn't quite reached the crawling stage yet, but Jake didn't want to risk his youngest daughter risking her life by putting some small part in her mouth and choking on it.

That December, Miss Genevieve's little dance company had a public performance as part of James Ferguson Elementary School's holiday pageant. Daria wasn't the star dancer; that was Betsy's role; Betsy was a ten year-old who had been dancing for several years. Afterwards, Daria, Cindy, Jessie, and Linda were proud of themselves and of Miss Genevieve as their parents congratulated them, Miss Genevieve, and greeted Miss Genevieve, Miss Genevieve's sister Lake and Miss Genevieve's sister's friend Clara.

Daria continued to do well in First Grade , but by January Daria realized that she was out of synch with some of her classmates. Daria, Cindy, and Jessie, as well as some of the other children, worked hard and tried to learn new things. The others, though, looked and acted bored and incurious. The two worst offenders were Beavis and his brown-haired buddy; they were often sent down to the Principal's office and Daria overheard her teacher talk about sending them to something called a special education class. The Aldrete sisters were also trouble-makers, although they calmed down a little; nevertheless, they seemed almost like star pupils compared the two boys.

Winter passed and Spring came to Highland. Shortly after Daria's seventh birthday, the two creepy boys strayed over to her block while she and Quinn were playing in the back yard. Daria walked up to the fence and coldly told the boys to go away but instead of leaving, the two boys went to the house next door, picked up gravel from their landscaping, and started throwing pebbles at her and her Quinn. Daria didn't know how she did it, but she raised her hand and the rocks first stopped in mid-air like they hit a shield, then flew back at the boys. The little girl stood up, walked to the chain link fence, shook her fist and yelled "BEAT IT, YOU CREEPS!" Frightened by what she'd done, the two boys turned and ran away.

When Daria went to school the following Monday, she expected the boys to talk about it with the other kids. But they didn't. Instead, they kept a wary distance from her and didn't bother her. That was OK with Daria; she didn't think normal people did that. But if the boys thought she could give them trouble, maybe they'd keep their space.


	6. Chapter 6

Daria and its characters are the property of Glenn Eichler and MTV/Viacom. Harry Potter and its characters are the property and creation of JK Rowling. I own neither and neither expect nor deserve financial compensation for this story. I write for amusement and ego gratification.

Daria Ravenclaw The Highland Years Part Six

The school year ended in early June. Jake got a promotion to assistant sales manager, and Helen began to go to the office for a few hours weekdays, often taking Ronnie with her. Daria and Quinn usually found themselves in day care again when she did . Sometimes Helen took Daria to the office and left Quinn at day care, since Daria preferred to quietly amuse herself with books and drawing, unlike Quinn's trying to be the party girl and the center of attention.

The Morgendorffers did not take any vacation trips that summer. While Jake really wanted to take Helen and the girls on a trip, preferably someplace cooler like the Rocky Mountains, Ronnie was still too young to travel. Furthermore, money was still tight and Helen had a busy schedule of her own. That didn't stop him from setting up a tent in the back yard during a three-day weekend and inviting Daria and Quinn to spend the night there. Quinn tried it one night, then decided that it was hot and boring and retreated back into the house with Mom and Ronnie. Daria stuck it out, though, although she was glad to be able to shower and use the refrigerator.

Daria and her small circle of friends did other things besides ballet. Sometimes they went swimming in the community pool, and occasionally they got to go to the movies. On Saturday nights, the Highland parks department would show old movies, and everybody could go down near sunset and watch the old films for free.

Nor had the girls passed that age where they stopped playing with dolls or with doll houses. Daria liked her dollhouse, but had to concede that Jessie's was a lot cooler.

Occasionally the girls still painted and drew. Jessie's Mom persuaded Daria to try to use a quill pen again. Jessie managed to lower Daria's resistance. "You know, people used to use feather quills for centuries," said Dorothy. A lot of the great works of literature were written using quill pens—Shakespeare's plays, Milton's poetry, even Jane Austen's novels."

Daria still wasn't sold on the romance of quills and ink _. This is a pokey way to write_ , thought Daria, as she slowly and carefully drew letters on blank paper with a quill. _A ballpoint would be a lot quicker. So would a typewriter_.

Using a quill pen was tricky. But she had to admit that it was cool the way she could use the pen to make the letters as thick as she wanted to, although she couldn't make them as skinny as she'd like. Also, she didn't like the way the ink would keep running down the tip if she wasn't careful or the big messy blots that it made. Nevertheless Daria again decided to stay away from quill pens to write anything if she could avoid it.

Despite Daria's misgivings about quill pens and ink pots, not long after Bastille Day, she succeeded in lettering something she was proud of. She was so proud of it that she showed it to both of her parents when she returned home from Jessie's house that evening.

"I made something cool at Jessie's Mom's house," she said. She handed it first to Jake, and then to Helen. Daria's Mother took the fine paper from her daughter's hand and read it: "I am DARIA MORGENDORFFER," it said. Helen like it so much that she took it and got it framed. It soon hung in Daria's room.

By the end of the summer, Mr. and Mrs. Wise were in a good mood. They said that their career brainstorming sessions were beginning to produce results. Daria didn't know what that meant, but it sounded like Mr. and Mrs. Wise would have new jobs, hopefully near Highland.

Unfortunately, there was trouble at ballet class. Not that the students were making trouble. Ballet was not only elective, but it was held off-campus, in what had been an empty storefront leased by the local arts council. The girls who took ballet classes were there because they wanted to be there, not because they had to be there. If the young ballerinas weren't best friends, they at least chose to put up with each other.

But it wasn't the little kids who were noisy and making trouble; it was the grown-ups. Lake and Clara had started squabbling with each other, and a couple of times they started quarreling during dance class. Miss Genevieve had to stop dance class and go outside, first with her sister, then with Clara. It was kinda scary watching grown-ups fighting like that. Daria was reminded more than once of when Dad would start yelling about Grandpa Morgendorffer.

Most of the students in the class resented Lake's and Clara's open quarreling.

"They aren't even in the dance class," said Daria. "Why do they come over here to yell at each other?

Cindy and Jessie also hated it when Lake and Clara started squabbling with each other.

"Why can't they fight someplace else?" said Jessie.

Lara, a nine year-old that joined the class in January, hated it too, but thought it was funny in a horrible kind of way. She tried to make fun of it as best she could.

"What I'd like to do if I were big would be to make both of them stand in the corner until they cut it out," she said.

Lake and Clara couldn't keep it down. A couple of times, they were so angry and so noisy that their quarrels attracted some of the people that had been working on the upstairs floor or shopping next door.

School started again in late August, and Daria was now in the second grade while Quinn was now in kindergarten. Most of the students Daria remembered from first grade were still there, including the two idiots. And three weeks after school started, Daria had her first crush, a boy named Bryce who was in the third grade.

Bryce was tall, at least for primary-school boys, handsome, and occasionally showed that he had brains, a rare quality, at least for boys around Highland. He did try out for the flag football team, which Daria had discovered was a common failing for guys his age, but she overheard him talking about other stuff as well. History, science, and not just comic books and video games. Maybe, just maybe, boys could be something other than loud, pushy, football-crazed jerks.

Daria didn't think much about high school and dating. She still hoped that her parents could move away from Highland. Still, if she was still living in Highland, it would be nice when they got older and it was time to start dating. She had already crossed out a lot of boys' names on her mental checklist, but told herself that Bryce was the sort of boy she'd like to go out with.

It was late September that Daria's life in Highland underwent a major shift. It started when Daria, Cindy, and Jessie met together after school to carpool over to ballet class.

"I got some bad news," said Cindy. "We're moving away. Dad found a new job in Albuquerque and we'll be moving there."

Daria hoped against hope that it wasn't true. Her hopes were dashed when Cindy's Mom stopped by Casa Morgendorffer the following evening.

"Helen, Jake, Daria," said Mrs. Wise. "I thought you'd like to want to know. Ira has gotten a job offer in Albuquerque and he is going to take it."

Mr. and Mrs. Wise got very busy as a result of their move, going through their things and deciding what to keep and take with them and what to leave behind in Highland. Cindy was kept busy, too. She had to start going through her stuff, deciding what she wanted to keep, what she wanted to give away.

Cindy's friends Daria, Linda, and Jessie helped Cindy pack what she was going to take to her new home in Albuquerque and sort what was going to go to charity or to the Wises' moving sale. Cindy also gave away some of her stuff to Daria, Linda, Jessie, Dale, and Quinn. Eventually, though, the movers came and began packing the Wises' things and loaded them into a moving van. Daria watched along with the Wises as the movers efficiently boxed up the stuff that the Wises were going to take to their new home. Cindy and her friends were shooed outside when the movers actually started loading the van.

The Wises spent their last night in Highland in a motel, using a house-cleaning service to prepare their empty house for the realtors. They stopped by the Morgendorffers' early the next morning.

"Well, I guess this is it," said Ira. "Jake, it was good to meet you and Helen, and I'm going to miss you." He shook Jake's hand, gave Helen a quick hug, then gave smiles and nods to Daria, Quinn, and Veronica.

"Helen, Jake, I'm so glad I got to know you," said Mrs. Wise. She gave good-bye hugs to Jake, Helen, and all three girls.

"Goodbye, Mr. Morgendorffer, Mrs. Morgendorffer," said Cindy. She gave Daria and Quinn hugs, then gave another one to Veronica. "Daria, Quinn, good-bye. I hope to see you again sometime.

The Wises got in their crowded car, the car doors slamming with an unspoken note of finality. Mr. Wise started the engine. Daria sadly watched the Mrs. Wise drive away with her best friend. Daria knew that her trip to school later that morning was going to be a sad one,

The Wise house now sat empty, a "For Sale" sign planted in the front lawn. It was easy for a while to pretend that the Wises were still there. The front yard still had Mrs. Wise's native plant flower bed and the back cactus garden. Sometimes Daria filled up a watering can and watered their plants.

Daria continued with her ballet class, as did Jessie and Linda. The ballet steps had become easier with practice and Daria and dance students who had been enrolled the year before were joined by new girls and a boy named Jonathan.

Daria also started having trouble at school. Not that Daria wasn't studying or trying to be disruptive; the trouble was with the Aldrete sisters. For some reason Daria didn't know, the Aldretes decided that she was a good target for their mischief, and Daria found it was her turn to be at the receiving end of the Aldretes' weird stuff.

What was infuriating was that it wasn't anything solid or something the teacher could spot and bust them on. Spitballs, paper airplanes, chewing gum, "accidentally" spilled soda and things of that sort she could not only spot and deal with. No, what the Aldretes did was sneakier and more subtle stuff, stuff that the clueless teachers at James Ferguson Elementary School couldn't spot.

It started one afternoon when she found a clear bubble floating over her desk. The bubble resembled a very large soap bubble, like the sorts you could make from a bubble-blower that Mom or Dad occasionally brought back from the five and dime, except that she couldn't pop it with a poke with a sharp pencil or make it move with a wave of her hand. It just floated there. She instantly knew who had done it: the Aldrete sisters.

Both of them saw Daria's reaction and started giggling.

"Cut it out!" said Daria.

She must have spoken louder than she intended. The teacher noticed.

"What is it, Miss Morgendorffer?" said the teacher.

Daria didn't like telling on other students. She preferred to settle her business herself. It was already becoming clear that to tell on other students was a sign of weakness and marked you as a weakling. Weaklings were targets for more abuse. Do it often enough and you risked being labeled a wuss, and wusses were open targets for everybody.

"Nothing, Ma'am," said Daria.

The bubble refused to move. Daria picked up her book and turned to the side to read her assignment, but not before firing off a couple of angry glares at the Aldrete sisters.

The Aldretes giggled again, and the bubble moved over to the side where Daria was trying to read her book.

This was getting really irritating.

This time, the Aldretes had gone too far. The teacher had them pulled out of class for the rest of the afternoon.

The Aldrete stuff happened again the following day. This time, the teacher decided a wider crack-down might help. Not only did the Aldretes get detentions, but so did Daria, Corrine, and Luis.

The following day, Sarita and Connie Aldrete showed up in class with blue hair. They looked daggers at Daria, who looked back at them with a glare and a thin smile.

Daria suspected that things might have escalated further but for the fact that not only did the Aldretes' parents come to school to talk with the principal that day, but so did Mrs. Gonzalez, a woman Daria didn't know but who was a power to be reckoned with in Highland's Mexican-American community. The Aldretes acted quieter and more subdued when they came to school the day after.

Daria still got detention that Saturday. Mom and Dad had words with her, but the Aldretes stopped using their weird stuff to bother her.

Well, most of it stopped. The following Tuesday, the Aldrete mystery bubble was floating above Daria's desk again, but somehow Daria was able to move it aside.

The Aldrete sisters looked at her with astonishment. Nobody in school had been able to do that before. In response, Daria smiled.

Meanwhile, ballet class didn't go that well. Miss Genevieve looked tired and frazzled. Lake and Clara had been mad at each other again and Clara took it to the ballet class. Miss Genevieve pleaded with her sister and Clara to please take their quarrel elsewhere and said that Highland was Highland and not someplace called Montrose.

The following week Miss Genevieve was in a better mood. Her sister Lake looked down, but Daria was able to learn that Clara had moved out of Lake's apartment. Daria hoped that Clara had not only moved but moved someplace far away. She'd seen maps at the public library and Fond du Lac struck her as a pretty name, It was in a state called Wisconsin and was far, far away from Highland, Texas. Daria wished Clara would move there.

The following week, Agnes Crowe, the head of the Highland Arts Council, the organization that helped fund the ballet class and provided the space for them to meet, attended the dance class. Daria and the other dancers put more effort than usual into lessons and practice, and Mrs. Crowe looked very pleased with their performance. Nevertheless, Mrs. Crowe said that she wanted to talk to Miss Genevieve about something after class. Daria hoped it was something good.

It wasn't. "Ladies, Jonathan," said Miss Genevieve the following week, "I have some sad news for you. I'm leaving. I'll be teaching my last class in two weeks."

Daria and the other girls were afraid that that would be the end of ballet classes then and there. But no, Agnes Crowe, the head of the local arts council, came to class herself to announce that she'd found a replacement. Mrs. Crowe and the new teacher showed up at class the following week. Daria was reminded of the time she saw a hawk perched on top of a utility pole; the hawk was coldly looking over the surrounding area looking for things to pounce on.

"Ladies, Jonathon," said Miss Genevieve with a nervous smile, "I'll be sorry to leave you, but I'm happy to say that Mrs. Crowe has found a new teacher to take over the class. This is Ms. Psyche Olivia…"

"You can call me Mrs. Crush," cut in the new teacher. She smiled.


	7. Chapter 7

Daria Ravenclaw Highland Years PPMB Six Teaser

Daria, Jessie, and Linda arrived at the dance studio at the usual time the next day. They were still sad about Miss Genevieve having to leave, but wondered about the new teacher. What was she like? Was she going to be nice? Was she going to be as good a teacher as Miss Genevieve was? They hoped she would be, but they didn't know.

Mrs. Crowe was there that first day to watch Mrs. Crush take over the dance class. Daria was concerned about the way Mrs. Crush had looked at the class on Miss Genevieve's last day and had mentioned it to her Mom, but her Mom had told her not to worry about it and that first impressions weren't always accurate. In spite of Daria's concern, Mrs. Crush was pleasant enough while Mrs. Crowe was around, howbeit somewhat stricter than Miss Genevieve had been. Daria had already learned not to believe all of her Mom's reassurances, but this first class didn't go as badly as she feared it might, even if Mrs. Crush wasn't Miss Genevieve.

The next day Mrs. Crowe was confident enough to let Mrs. Crush teach the class by herself. Daria sensed the change of atmosphere immediately.

Mrs. Crush clapped her hands and said "Everybody come here!" in an imperious voice.

"I want you all to listen up!" said Mrs. Crush. "I think your previous dance teacher was too soft on you. I think you're old enough to be more disciplined."

Mrs. Crush's speech was interrupted by Martha and Lizzie's arrival. Martha and Lizzie's mom had trouble getting off work and Martha and Lizzie were almost always a little late getting to class on time. Miss Genevieve made allowances for them, but Miss Genevieve wasn't there anymore.

"You!" said Mrs. Crush. "And you!"

"What are your names?" asked Mrs. Crush.

"I'm Martha," said the older girl.

"I'm Lizzie," said the younger one.

"What are you doing coming in here late?!" said Mrs. Crush.

"We're sorry, Ma'am, but our mom has trouble getting off from work and…" 

"I don't care," snapped Mrs. Crush. "If you want to keep taking this ballet class, don't come in late. You disrespect me when you come in here late."

The ballet students quickly learned that Mrs. Crush's teaching style was much more demanding and much harsher than Miss Genevieve's had been. Miss Genevieve would stop the music, then gently correct the young ballerinas, often using her hands to help them assume the correct positions. Mrs. Genevieve's class constantly had new students trickling in, students who didn't know the steps that Betsy, Daria, Jessie, Linda and some of the older students had already learned. Daria had found Miss Genevieve's taking so much time teaching the new students old hat to be old hat and a little boring, but began to notice the good points of Miss Genevieve's teaching style after it was gone.

Mrs. Crush's technique was to first demonstrate how each step or movement was performed, then have the class follow her movements. Unlike Miss Genevieve, though, Mrs. Crush would have the class perform each new step once, maybe twice, and then expect them to perform it correctly when she set it to music.

Mrs. Crush didn't have much patience with new students who didn't quickly learn the new steps and choreography. She expected them to assume the correct posture and movements after she'd demonstrated them in front of the class. The first time a student made a mistake, Mrs. Crush would let fly with a sharp comment like "That's not right! Do it correctly!" occasionally followed with a "Do it over!" If the students still had trouble keeping in step to the music or learning new steps, Mrs. Crush would ridicule them by asking them why they were so clumsy.

Sometimes the younger children would break down into tears. Mrs. Crush had scant sympathy; she usually responded by calling them crybabies. Some of the newer students stopped crying, but a couple of the newest students responded by dropping the class. When members of the Highland Arts Council asked about the drop-outs' complaints that Mrs. Crush had been too harsh on them, Mrs. Crush replied that they lacked commitment. Mrs. Crush went on to say that Miss Genevieve had only been a dance teacher, and one that only taught small children. She, on the other hand, had been a professional ballerina and had performed in New York and San Francisco.

Mrs Crush had a different response for those rare students who asked about drop-outs and her harsh teaching methods. Mrs. Crush responded that she didn't like quitters and didn't sympathize with whiners who couldn't stand straight talk.

Not all of the young ballerinas agreed with Mrs. Crush's approach. Betsy, one of the girls who had been taking ballet classes the longest, asked her if she could go a little easier on the newer students, since they weren't so well trained and hadn't learned their steps. Betsy tried to make her case as Mrs. Crush's face hardened and her eyes narrowed.

Not all of the young ballerinas agreed with Mrs. Crush's approach. Betsy, one of the girls who had been taking ballet classes the longest, asked her if she could go a little easier on the newer students, since they weren't so well trained and hadn't learned their steps. Mrs. Crush's eyes narrowed and her face hardened even as Betsy tried to make her case.

"You!" said Mrs. Crush. "I don't like your attitude and the way you try to talk back. Just because you've been here longer than anybody else doesn't make you irreplaceable."

Betsy's mouth dropped open in shock. She thought she was being reasonable and polite, and that Mrs. Crush would have heard her out. She could not continue with this teacher, she decided. Some things just weren't worth it.

Betsy's mouth dropped open in shock. She thought she was being reasonable and polite, and that Mrs. Crush would have heard her out. She could not continue with this teacher, she decided. Some things just weren't worth it.

"Does that answer your question?" said Mrs. Crush.

 _That answered my question all right,_ thought Betsy.

The following day, Daria, Jessie, Linda, Farah, and Gloria showed up for dance class as usual. Betsy, however, wasn't there. Jasmine gave Martita a significant look and shook her head. Daria worried that Betsy hadn't quit. Daria looked up to Betsy as the sort of dancer she'd like to be.

Maybe, just maybe, she thought, Betsy was at the dentist's or something.

"Before we start," said Mrs. Crush, "I'd like you to know that we have been asked to perform again at the Christmas pageant. I understand that some of you have performed before and I'd like you to perform again."

Mrs. Crush made no mention of Betsy during the rest of her announcements. "Any questions?" said Mrs. Crush in a perfunctory tone of voice.

Jessie decided to bit the bullet and raised her hand.

"Mrs. Crush," said Jessie, "where's Betsy?"

"Betsy quit," said Mrs. Crush.

"Her little feelings were hurt by some straight talk," she continued. "I don't like quitters and I don't sympathize with whiners who can't stand straight talk," said Mrs. Crush.

"Mrs. Crush," said Gail, "last year the school gave us thirty minutes for our part in the pageant."

"Who's planning this pageant?" said Mrs. Crush, "me or you? We'll plan for one hour."

"All right, we're going to have the Dance of the Winter Queen," said Mrs. Crush. "All right, which of you can tell me who's the best dancer?"

Lyndsey raised her hand. "Mrs. Crush, Jasmine's our best dancer. I think she'd be good for the part," she said.

"No," said Mrs. Crush. "I don't really think that a colored dancer would be appropriate for this role."

Daria looked at Jasmine, as did other eyes. Jasmine looked stunned, then her face went blank.

Daria had trouble getting to sleep that night.

Jasmine's mother was at the dance studio the following day.

"I am withdrawing my daughter from your class," she said. "Furthermore, I am going to write a complaint to the Arts Council. I raised my daughter to be a proud woman, to be proud of being a woman of color," said Mrs. Masters. "I see no reason to support any woman who disrespects her because of the color of her skin."


	8. Chapter 8

DAR Highland Years Dance Rehearsals ZZZ

For some reason or other, Mrs. Crush was forced to lighten up on her students. Jessia, Linda, Gail, and Farrah wanted to believe that it was because it was because Mrs. Crowe had convinced her to ease up on her students. Daria wasn't quite so sure; she saw that the ballet class was smaller than before Mrs. Crush took over. She wondered if maybe Mrs. Crush realized that she was running short of students.

The tone of the class started to shift the following day. The hyper-criticism and the sarcasm diminished. Mrs. Crush began to spend less time on teaching new positions and dance steps to the younger students and more and more time on laying out the choreography for the dance troupe's part of the Christmas pageant. The newer students were given but token instruction or ignored while Mrs. Crush made the more experienced dancers in the class practice their dance steps and choreography for the pageant.

Not that Mrs. Crush had entirely given up verbal lashings; but with the pageant coming up in just under two months, Mrs. Crush wanted to make her class look good. By now, Mrs. Crush had begun to determine which girls were the class's better dancers. Gail was one, Farrah was another, Gloria was another, and Linda was one, too. Surprisingly to Daria, she somehow made the cut, as did An. And despite the fact that Jonathan wasn't that good, he also made the cut. After all, he was the only guy in the class.

Despite Mrs. Crush's more civil tone, the students' respect for Mrs. Crush continued to fade. Some of the class had younger sisters and friends who were being ignored, others disliked the verbal humiliations that they or their friends received at Mrs. Crush's hands. Most of the dancers began to see Gail as their leader, as opposed to Mrs. Crush, whom they saw as their teacher and task-mistress.

Not that they started slacking. Most of the dancers chosen for the Holiday pageant were honored that they were chosen and wanted to do a good job for themselves, for their friends, and for their families, if not for Mrs. Crush. Most of the remaining dancers wanted to keep dancing and learn more ballet; they just didn't like Mrs. Crush and wished that she'd go away.

For some reason or other, most of the dancers began to see Gail as their leader, as opposed to Mrs. Crush, whom they saw as their teacher and task-mistress. Unlike most of the other girls in the ballet class, Gail had the makings of a good leader: she was attractive, charismatic, fair, tried to lead by example, and was as patient as most nine year-olds could be without being resigned or condescending.

It was probably Gail more than anybody that kept the majority of the class from quitting in the following weeks. Daria thought that Gail was the sort of girl destined to find her way to the cheerleading squad or the drill team, and one evening dreamt of Gail as a high school student wearing a Highland High School cheerleader's uniform, but Gail was able to persuade Daria and other waiverers to keep with it one more week, one more week, and the following week keep at it yet another week.

"I'm going to stick with it," said Gail when one of the other dancers asked her why she didn't leave the class. "Quitters never win and winners never quit." Gail said it with the certainty that she'd say that water was wet and that the sun came up in the morning and with the fervor that the church-going folks in Highland said the Apostles' Creed.

Gail was more generous towards Mrs. Crush than most of the young dancers. "I don't think she's a psycho, I just think she's tough, that's all," she said.

Daria never learned who started it, but somewhere or other, a new rumor began to circulate among the ballet dancers. If they put on a good performance at the holiday pageant, Mrs. Crowe and the other ladies in the Arts Council would be so impressed that they'd fire Mrs. Crush and get somebody else to teach the ballet class. Daria thought the rumor started among the youngest dancers. She wasn't sure she believed the rumor herself, but many of the older students had started to believe it, as did Jessie, but nevertheless Daria hoped that the rumor was true. But whether they believed the rumor about the Arts Council firing Mrs. Crush after the Holiday Pageant was true or not, most of the ballet class knew better than to tell Mrs. Crush about it.

Both Jake and Helen noticed just how hard Daria was working on her upcoming ballet performance. It wasn't just the time Daria spent at the studio with the other dancers, but sometimes Daria tried to practice out in the back yard.

Her practicing did not go unnoticed. One evening, she came in for "You know, Smidget, you're putting a lot of time and effort into that ballet class," said Jake.

"Well, Dad, I want to get it right," said Daria. "And besides, you've heard the joke about how you get to Carnegie Hall, haven't you?"

"No?" said Jake.

"Practice, practice, practice," said Daria.

"Good one, kiddo!" said Jake.

"I think it's wonderful that she's putting in so much time and effort into something that she loves, Jake," said Helen. "Putting so much hard work and discipline into something she loves will pay big rewards later in life."

Quinn, of course, was less supportive. Quinn's barbs ran the gamut from mocking mimicry to snide comments about her sister the ugly ballerina. Daria's response could be anywhere from sarcasm to silence to, once in a while, blowing a raspberry in her younger sister's direction, preferably when it would embarrass Quinn the most.

Veronica was still too young to say very much, although once or twice she pointed at Daria and said "Daria dancing!"

Daria didn't know if that meant that Ronnie was taking her side or not, but she was coming to realize that she had a soft spot for her youngest sister that she didn't have for Quinn. She looked at her youngest sister, gave an uncharacteristic smile, and said "Thanks, kid."

It was now mid-November. The next holiday was Thanksgiving, although the stores in Highland were already displaying Christmas merchandize and a few of them had started decorating their stores for the upcoming holiday. Daria was already learning to appreciate irony; she'd seen an interesting program on the educational channel about life in early New England and was surprised to learn that the Puritans had banned celebrating Christmas.

Mrs. Crush held a rehearsal during Thanksgiving weekend. Some of the young ballerinas were not able to attend because their parents made other plans. Their absences were rewarded on the Monday after Thanksgiving with lectures about responsibility and commitment.

Despite of her increasing dislike for Mrs. Crush, Daria found herself growing more excited about this year's Holiday pageant. How had Mrs. Crush managed to wrangle a full hour of dance from the Mrs. Crowe? Betsy, before she left, said that Miss Genevieve had only gotten thirty minutes, yet somehow Mrs. Crush had gotten a full hour.

Daria wanted to do her part, not for Mrs. Crush, but for the other dancers and, yes, for herself, too. She practiced and practiced and practiced. She really wanted to get this right.

Mrs. Crush had wanted to scrap Miss Genevieve's costumes and have new ones for this year's pageant, but her budget didn't allow for it. It didn't help that she was on the outs with Jasmine Masters' mom; Mrs. Masters was the seamstress chiefly responsible for making Miss Genevieve's costumes, she was no longer in a co-operative mood and became even less so after Mrs. Crush tried to talk to her on the telephone. Fortunately, several of the girls still had their costumes from last year, Farrah and Gloria were able to use ties of friendship to get a couple more costumes from the girls that had left, and Gail's Mom made a couple more.

The dress rehearsal went well. Mrs. Crush ran the girls through their paces and had only minimal criticism concerning their form and steps. Daria performed her part of the dance and was pleased that she was able to synchronize her moves with Linda's, Gail's, Gloria's, Farrah's, and An's without losing her rhythm.

As Daria left school that afternoon, she heard the sound of Mr. Links firing up the waxing machine. She hoped someone would get to him in time and keep him away from the gym where they'd be holding the pageant. She was all too aware from PE that the gym floor could turn dangerously slippery for the first several days after the waxer had run over it.


	9. Chapter 9

DAR The Highland Years The Holiday Pageant

Daria is the creation of Glenn Eichler and the property of MTV Viacom. Harry Potter is the creation of JK Rowling and the property of JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. I own neither and neither expect nor deserve any financial return for this story. I am writing for my own amusement and ego gratification.

Daria went to school the next day with a feeling of excitement about the Holiday Pageant. Today was show day and she felt ready, as did members of the chorus and the schoolmates who were going to be doing the school play. The principal's morning announcement did little to diminish her anticipation, even when he said that the gym was going to be closed. Well, she knew from last year that the pageant committee stored their props in the gym the day before the pageant took place.

Her feeling of anticipation turned to premonitions of trouble when she smelled the unmistakable scent of floor wax. Mister Links had waxed the gym floor after all.

Mrs. Markham was doing carpool that afternoon when she picked up Jessie, Daria, Quinn, and Dale that afternoon. Linda's mom was going to pick her up separately.

"So tonight's the big night?" said Mrs. Markham.

"Yes, Mom," said Jessie.

"Are you excited too, Daria?" asked Mrs. Markham.

"Yes, I am," said Daria. And to her surprise, this wasn't an answer to get Mrs. Markham off her case. She really was excited about this evening's dance performance.

The Markhams dropped her and Quinn off at Casa Morgendorffer. Daria ran inside to grab a snack and get her costume for this evening's performance.

The older Morgendorffers rode back to school in Helen's sedan. Veronica wouldn't be joining them; she was still just a little too young to stay still and quiet for more than twenty to thirty minutes. They arrived early so Daria could get ready to go on stage when the dance class performed. Daria went towards the stage to join up with the other dancers; the rest of the Morgendorffers went over to the bleachers to get seated.

Daria was pleased that she had arrived at a good time, but sensed that there might be some problems with this evening's performance, especially considering that Mr. Links had waxed the gym floor. Most of the young dancers were gathered in a worried knot over to the side waiting to hear what Mrs. Crush would have to say about the dance.

Daria saw that Mr. Links was still there and that he was doing the evening shift and had been cornered by Mrs. Crush and Mrs. Kappel, the woman who ran the school chorus. "You know, we asked you not to wax the floor until after the 18th," she said.

The janitor shrugged. "Mr. Flinders said that we wuz supposed to have the floor waxed, and we did it. He didn't say nuthin' about the Christmas show. He said that the floor was supposed to be waxed and I did what I wuz told."

"Can't you people do anything right?" asked Mrs. Crush. "What are you trying to do, trip us up?"

The janitor looked at Mrs. Crush, shrugged, turned around, and walked away. He didn't have to take this crazy lady's #####, and he wouldn't. Someone may or may have told Mr. Flinders about holding off on waxing the gym floor, but Mr. Flinders didn't tell him. Mr. Flinders told him to wax the floor yesterday, and he did what he was supposed to.

Mrs. Crush turned away from Mrs. Kappel and back to the young dancers. "Well, girls," said Mrs. Crush, "we'll just have to do the best we can with what we've got. A slippery floor shouldn't pose much of a problem, should it?"

Daria wasn't so sure. She wasn't that athletic, but she'd been on the gym floor after it had been waxed and it was all too easy to fall down. You had to be real careful when you used it because it was slippery and sometimes even when you were extra careful, you could still slip and fall. Daria knew that from personal experience, and she was sure that many of the other girls in the class knew that too.

"Ma'am?" said Daria. "I've been on this floor right after they waxed it. It does get slippery."

"Nothing will happen," said Mrs. Crush dismissively. "When I danced in New York, the floors were often a little slippery, but nobody fell."

Daria didn't find Mrs. Crush's reassurances very reassuring. Whatever they did in New York or San Francisco, Daria was certain that Mrs. Crush's old ballet troupe didn't have to deal with Mr. Flinders' schedules or Mr. Links' waxing machines.

"Can I go to the bathroom first?" said Daria.

Mrs. Crush said yes and Daria headed out the door.

The near bathroom already was full and Daria had to go to the one at the far end of the building. She did her business and used her time in the bathroom to change out of her street clothes and into her costume. She had an ugly premonition about how things could go but hoped she'd be wrong. Well, there wasn't much she could do about things now. She exited the bathroom and started walking down the hall to the gym.

"Excuse me. You're one of the dancers, aren't you?" said a half-familiar voice when Daria was halfway down the hall. Daria turned towards her and recognized Mrs. Pruett. Mrs. Pruett had directed the Christmas pageant last year.

"Yes, ma'am," said Daria.

"Your dance teacher's here, isn't she?" said Mrs. Pruett.

"Yes, ma'am," said Daria. "She's in the gym with the other dancers."

Good," said Mrs. Pruett. "I've been trying to speak with her for days and I've had a hard time getting in touch with her."

"Well, ma'am, she's in there," said Daria.

Daria followed Mrs. Pruett through the gym doors, then went back over to where the other dancers were gathered.

"Hey, Daria, you're all dressed and ready to go," said Gail. "Which bathroom did you use? The one nearest the gym is probably full up."

"I used the one on the far end," said Daria.

"I think we'd better change before things really get crazy," said Gail. She turned towards the other dancers. "OK, who wants to get changed?" she said. "We'd better do it now while we can."

Daria saw Mrs. Pruett was having what looked like a serious discussion with Mrs. Crush. Daria suspected that whatever they were talking about might involve her and the other dancers, so she edged closer so she could hear them. It didn't take long for her to edge back a little; Mrs. Pruett's and Mrs. Crush's voices had gotten louder and she didn't need to be as close as she thought she might to hear them clearly.

"No, Psyche, I said thirty minutes, same as last year," said Mrs. Pruett. "I realize that things can get hectic with the holidays, so I also sent you an e-mail and left messages on your answering machine. I said that the ballet class would get thirty minutes of pageant time, just like it did when Genevieve Triste was running your dance class."

"But nobody told me we'd only have thirty minutes!" said Mrs. Crush. "This completely throws off the choreography!"

"If you weren't sure about the time and you couldn't get in touch with me, why didn't you ask one of your students?" said Mrs. Pruett. "They might be young, but girls like Betsy have been through the mill before and know what to expect."

Mrs. Crush was not in a good mood when she finished talking to Mrs. Pruett.

Only Daria, An, and Gloria were there and in costume when Mrs. Crush finished talking to Mrs. Pruett. The other girls were probably changing or waiting.

Mrs. Crush scowled at the dancers. "OK, girls, I just learned that we are only going to have thirty minutes, not an hour, so that means we're going to have to make some serious changes in our performance. The following pieces are going to be cut: Dance of the Elves, Santa's helpers, the Holiday Cheer Song…"

The young dancers looked at Mrs. Crush, then at each other in shock and disbelief. They'd put in hours of practice in working on those dances. They'd worked, and worked hard, and Mrs. Crush had been all over their cases for the tiniest mistakes, and Mrs. Crush was going to cut their dances just like that? Why did she do that? Why didn't she know that they'd only have thirty minutes this year? She was the grown-up, she was supposed to _**know**_.

The pageant formally started, and the chorus sang two songs while the dancers waited their turn. The first couple of dances went off well. The young ballerinas were able to go through their moves almost without a hitch. There was trouble with the third piece: Linda also nearly slipped, but stayed on her feet, even though she lost a beat and earned a disapproving look from Mrs. Crush for doing so.

Daria began the next part of her dance. This part was going to be a little tricky. She and Linda and Gloria and Farrah would be criss-crossing each other, all the while keeping their footwork and armwork in synch. She was pretty sure she could pull this off; she'd been practicing it for weeks over and over again.

Daria pushed off and was able to get through the first two thirds of her dance without any trouble. She would have gotten through the remaining third, too, if the floor was like it was at the dance studio or if it was still a little scruffy like it had been a few days ago. But the gym floor wasn't like it was even a few days ago; it was still slippery from the recent wax job. Daria's left foot shot away from her, she lost her footing, and landed hard on her right knee.

She sat there in a mixture of bewilderment, consternation, and embarrassment. It seemed like the entire audience started laughing at her. Her Mom was laughing. Quinn was laughing. Worse, she could see that Bryce was in the audience with his friends and they weren't just laughing, they were pointing, too.

Daria got up. Her knee hurt, but she was able to limp off-stage, and shamefacedly headed back to the sidelines. The next piece was a two-person performance by Gail and Farrah, so she didn't have to worry about limping through another dance. Her mood was dark; a little sympathy might have helped, but that wasn't what she got.

"Morgendorffer, I hope you're proud of yourself," said Mrs. Crush in a low, angry voice. "Your screw-up embarrassed the whole class." Mrs. Crush turned away to do another snap inspection of the other dancers' costumes; they'd be appearing on stage one more time to join the other Pageant members for a final bow.

Daria was speechless and trying to process what Mrs. Crush had just said. She'd given her dance her best and she'd slipped and fallen through no fault of her own. Despite the low murmuring of the other dancers, the rustle of the dancers' costumes, and the muted sound of the chorus singing in the gym, the only sound she could notice was the choir singing while she tried to collect her thoughts.

Most of the other dancers looked uncomfortably at Daria. A couple of them had had their problems with the slippery floor and it had been luck as much as balance that kept them from slipping on the floor. But not Linda. "Gee, Daria," she said, "What a screw-up."

Daria glared at Linda. "You know, I didn't _**want**_ to slip and fall out there," she said. "You're supposed to be my friend, so why don't you shut up?"

Jessie's eyes widened at Daria's tone of voice, as did Gail's, Gloria's, and Farrah's. This was a first from Daria; Jessie had never heard Daria use that tone of voice with Linda, ever.

The last song the Chorus sang was "So Long, Farewell" from _The Sound of Music_. The Chorus wouldn't be on stage alone; the dancers as well as the actors and actresses from the play would be joining them, even if they didn't sing. Daria joined the rest of the ballet troupe, the chorus, and the young actors and actresses in the Pageant's little play and bowed. Daria was not in a good mood. _This should be a happy time,_ she thought. _My knee is hurting, and I shouldn't have people dumping on me for things that weren't my fault_.

The audience's applause ended and the dancers left the stage and gathered out in the hallway. Mrs. Pruett was waiting for them.

"Boys and girls, well done!" said Mrs. Pruett. "You all did a good job out there and you should be proud of yourselves. Chorus people, your singing was lovely. Actors and actresses, you did a fine job. Dancers, you did a good job, especially considering how slick the gym floor was. I don't know what sort of idiot would have the floor waxed the day before the Holiday Pageant."

"Before you go join your parents and your brothers and sisters out there, remember, there's an after-pageant party for people who were in the pageant over at the Methodist church's recreation building. I hope to see you all there!"

Daria went to search out her Mom, her Dad, and Quinn. She wished she hadn't fallen on her knee.

She was able to spot her parents and Quinn as the crowd thinned out.

"Mom, Dad, I did something to my knee during my last dance," said Daria. "It really hurts. "

"Oh, Daria, it's probably nothing," said Helen. "We'll go home, you'll get a good night's sleep and you'll feel fine in the morning."

"Mom, I really did something to my knee. It hurts real bad."

Helen's eyes widened and she looked again at her daughter's face. She reproached herself for not seeing it the first time. Her little girl was hurting.

"Can you walk?" said Jake.

"Barely," said Daria, occasionally gritting her teeth.

"If you want, I can carry you kiddo," said Jake.

"No, thanks, Dad," said Daria. She'd had enough pride stripped away this evening, she didn't want to lose any more if she could help it.

The Morgendorffers got into Helen's car, Jake waited for his chance to pull out of the parking lot, and then started driving home.

"Helen, why don't I take you and Quinn home so you can be with Ronnie while I take Daria to the emergency clinic?" said Jake.

"Good idea, Jake," said Helen.

Quinn smirked. "Gee," said Quinn, "Daria fell down."

"Quinn, be quiet!" snapped Helen.

From then on, it was a quiet ride back to the house. There was very little conversation.

Helen was tired from her day at work and wanted nothing better than to relieve the babysitter, put Quinn and Veronica to bed, then go to bed herself.

"That was a big fall," said Quinn mockingly.

"Quinn, not another word!" said Helen.

The car pulled into the Morgendorffers' driveway. Helen, Jake, and Quinn got out; Helen and Quinn went inside, then Jake went around and got in on the driver's side of the front seat.

"Kiddo, I loved watching you dance," said Jake. "I'm sorry about your spill."

It was several hours between the time that Jake and Daria checked in and Daria got to see a doctor. There were several patients ahead of Daria. There was a cook who had cut himself by accident with a carving knife, a couple of men who had been in a bar fight, a and a drunken woman who had twisted her ankle. Both Daria and her Dad were exhausted. Jake nodded off a couple of times and despite her pain, Daria nodded off twice before the doctor could see them.

It was after midnight when Daria's turn came up. The doctor examined her and said that it was probably a sprain, but it might have been a torn tendon. He bandaged up her knee and told Daria to try to stay off her feet for the next week. He gave her some children's pain medicine and told her that she should check in with her regular doctor to see if it was more than a simple sprain.

Jake and his daughter drove home. Daria was in a black mood. Her day had started so hopefully, then went so badly.

She brushed her teeth, then limped into bed. Her eyes were wet. Hot, scalding tears ran down her cheeks and soaked her pillow as she drifted off to sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years. Part Ten

 **Author's note:** Daria is the creation of Glenn Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. Harry Potter is the creation of JK Rowling and is the property of JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. I own neither and neither expect not deserve financial compensation for this story.

Daria still hurt the following morning, and it wasn't just the pain in her knee. She'd given her best on the dance floor, had tripped through no fault of her own, and then instead of getting a little bit of comfort and understanding from her dance teacher, she'd been given an unjustified tongue-lashing. She'd also missed the Pageant after-party, and she'd really wanted to go to that.

Daria hobbled to the breakfast table the following morning and sat down. Dad was still sleeping in.

"How are you feeling this morning?" said Helen.

"My knee still hurts," said Daria.

"I still think your spill was funny," said Quinn with a smirk.

"Let's see how you'd laugh if you fell down!" Daria said angrily.

"Daria the klutzy ballerina" said Quinn in a song-song voice. She went to the counter by the refrigerator to pour some cereal in her breakfast bowl. Her foot shot out from under her on her way back to the breakfast table and she fell on the floor, breaking the cereal bowl and spilling cereal all over herself and on the kitchen floor.

"Quinn, clean that up!" said Helen.

"See how it feels," said Daria, glaring at her sister.

Helen only hesitated a moment, then said "Daria, help your sister clean up that mess!"

"My knee still hurts," said Daria.

"Do what you can," said Helen. "I swear, I think you're both at fault."

"Daria ow-ee?" said Veronica from her high chair.

Daria wanted to snap at Ronnie but she couldn't. Despite her pain and despite the fact that her knee really hurt, she recognized that Ronnie hadn't done anything.

Daria looked at her baby sister. "Daria ow-ee," she said.

She got on her knees to help clean up, barely avoiding making a hiss of pain. The older sisters cleaned up the floor while exchanging glares.

"Mom," said Quinn. "It wasn't my fault. Daria made it slippery."

Helen put down the section of the Sunday paper she'd been reading. Quinn's tone of voice had gotten to her and Quinn had claimed something that was logically impossible.

"I don't care," said Helen. "Stop complaining. You made the mess, you clean it up. And another thing, young lady, your sister may be bandaged and hurting, but she helped clean it up."

Despite the breakfast incident, Daria wasn't done being angry at Quinn that day. She was so angry that she wouldn't talk to Quinn at lunch or dinner. She was so angry that evening that she wouldn't even sleep in the same room as her little sister; she waited until her parents had retired for the night, then took her blankets and pillow and went to sleep on the couch in the living room. She fell asleep feeling angry and resentful at both Quinn and Mrs. Crush, at the people in the audience who laughed at her, at Mr. Links who ran his stupid waxing machine the day before the dance, and at Linda.

Helen called Daria's and Quinn's pediatrician Monday morning. She then called her office to tell them that her daughters had a health emergency, and then the older girls' school to say that Daria wouldn't be going to school that day. Daria called Mrs. Markham to let her know that she wouldn't be carpooling to dance class that day. She hoped that Jessie would tell Mrs. Crush; she didn't want to talk to her teacher. She didn't trust herself to stay civil.

Daria tearfully sat through Dr. Kinder's examining of her knee and yelped when he touched her knee. He then sent her over to a nearby clinic that had an x-ray machine so they could take pictures.

Daria and Helen drove back to the pediatrician's with the x-rays and waited for him to give them the diagnosis. The doctor wore a grave expression after he finished looking at Daria's x-rays.

"Mrs. Morgendorffer, I'm afraid I have bad news," he said. "Your daughter damaged a couple of ligaments when she fell. She's going to have to keep her knee bandaged and wear a knee brace for a several months until her body heals."

Helen and Daria were forced to shop at a medical supply store in Midland. Helen and Daria found a knee brace and a pair of crutches for Daria to use. While Highland had places that sold crutches and braces, most of their stock was directed towards patients who used the Veterans Administration hospital there. Daria hated both the braces and crutches even before she hobbled out of the store.

"I'm sorry, Sweetie," said Helen, helping her daughter into the front passenger seat of her Honda. "I know how much dancing meant to you."

Jake was home with Veronica when Helen and Daria returned from Midland.

"I'm sorry, kiddo," he said.

Quinn tried to take another poke at her sister at the dinner table, but quickly learned that clumsy ballerina jokes were a fast way to raise both of her parents' tempers and also lose privileges.

The next morning, Daria hobbled out with Quinn to get into Mrs. Markham's car for carpool. Linda wasn't riding with them that morning, which was fine with Daria.

Jessie's eyes widened when she saw Daria on crutches. "Geez, Daria!" said Jessie. "What happened?"

"I did something to my knee when I fell down," said Daria. "The doctor says I'm going to have to take it easy for a while."

"Are you going to be able to come back to dance class?" asked Jessie.

Daria shook her head. "I think that's going to be all the dance class I'm going to take until sometime next year."

"Did the Doctor say when next year?" asked Mrs. Markham.

"I don't know," said Daria. "The way the doctor says it, it sounds like it's going to be practically forever." She was afraid that it would _be_ forever.

"Did you tell Mrs. Crush yet?" said Jessie.

"I left a message on her answering machine," said Daria. "Not that she'll care." Her voice turned bitter as well as sarcastic. "When I danced in New York, the floors were often a little slippery, but nobody fell."

"That's a wicked imitation of Psyche Crush, young lady," said Mrs. Markham. "Did she _**really**_ say that?"

"Yes!" chorused Jessie and Daria.

"And a whole lot more!" said Dale.

Mrs. Markham stopped the car on the circular driveway in front of the school's main entrance and the girls got out. However many clumsy ballerina jokes there might have been, most of them died unspoken as Daria hobbled into home room on crutches. If there was any teasing about Daria's fall, it got squashed.

Daria saw Bryce in the hallway talking to his buddies. Someone let him know that Daria was there. He turned to smirk, saw her on crutches, and blushed with embarrassment. Daria shot him a glare anyway for general principle.

Fortunately, there were only a couple of days of classes before Christmas Break. Helen called Mrs. Crush's phone number and left a message that Daria would not be taking any more dance classes until January or possibly March. Not that there was much left in December; the fall dance class ended the week before Christmas.

News of Daria's fall not only spread around her school but also to other active and former students of what had once been Miss Genevieve's ballet class. Daria got phone calls and several get-well cards not only from people who'd slogged through the pageant, but also from people who'd quit because of their treatment by Mrs. Crush.

It was not the happiest Christmas at the Morgendorffer house. Helen's and Jake's reactions to the presents they'd given each other were more subdued than they'd been last year. Quinn got more of what she wanted and Veronica got a large stuffed bear. Most of Daria's gifts had related to ballet and dancing, including a couple of CDs of ballet music and a new leotard; both Jake and Helen apologetically told their oldest that they could exchange them for something she liked if that was what she wanted.

Daria went to bed early on New Year's Eve. Her knee still hurt and she knew that the pain pill was going to make her sleepy. Both Helen and Jake made trips to her bedside before she fell asleep.

"I hope next year goes better for you, kiddo," said Jake.

"Thanks, Dad," said Daria.

"Do you want me to turn the light by your bed off?" he said.

"Yes," said Daria. The pain medications made her feel weird but she still fell asleep.

Daria seldom remembered dreams from her early years, but years later she somehow remembered a dream of masked ballerinas dancing around a stormy lake with a dark, gray, ugly castle sitting on top of an island in the middle of the stormy waters. The scene shifted, and she saw that the castle wasn't a castle; it was a prison. The dream shifted again and she saw a very sad, long-haired man with a thick untrimmed beard and wearing prison stripes staring at the gray wall of his prison cell. She would have liked to have seen more, but she shifted her leg and the pain from her knee woke her up.

School started again on the fifth of January. Daria was still on crutches. Linda had gotten a new bicycle for Christmas and was starting to ride to school instead of carpool. Daria envied her. She wanted to be whole again, to be able to walk again, to stop needing the crutches, and stop depending on grown-ups to get around. Wearing crutches got her out of Physical Education class, a class she hated, but she would have willingly started doing the stupid exercises if doing them made her able to walk and dance again like she did before her fall.

Mrs. Crush's dance class began again a couple of days later. It began to fall apart almost as soon as the first evening of classes began. Daria's fall and Mrs. Crush's indifference to her pupil's injury were only partly the cause. More important was the fact that Mrs. Crush decided that she no longer had to coddle the Pageant performers and that she needed to tighten up discipline. Somewhere in there, Mrs. Crush also heard about the rumor about the Art Council replacing her if the dancers did well in the Pageant. She did not take it well. She retaliated against the younger students who had spread the rumor and the older students she suspected had originated it.

Students began dropping out in ones and twos the next few days, then in a rush after that. Two new students who had joined the Monday after Thanksgiving left that first day, three more the day after. Jonathan, the only male dancer in the class, got cornered and beaten up by some fifth and sixth graders for being a "homo." He quit. Farrah decided that she'd had enough ten days later. Gail quit later that same week. Jessie quit the same day Gail did; if she was angry at Daria for quitting earlier, her act of quitting took a lot of starch out of her sails. An also quit. Linda stuck it out the longest, although she blamed Daria for starting the exodus from the ballet class.

Strangely, Mrs. Crush began to suffer health problems shortly after dance class began. First her arms and legs broke out in a red, itchy rash. Then her face suffered a severe acne outbreak. The morning after Gail and Farrah quit, she woke up with bunions on both feet. Two days later, she lost her voice.

The exodus not only of the new students, but also of the old-timers was the straw that broke the camel's back. The exodus was accompanied by a rash of letters from angry parents to the Arts Council about Mrs. Crush and her treatment of their children. Mrs. Crush was fired after a near-unanimous vote by the Highland Arts Council, and although Mrs. Crowe remained on the Highland Arts council, she was forced to resign as chairman.

Quinn's dream of joining the ballet class in her own right died before it could come to fruition. The adult gossip about Mrs. Crush leaped over Helen's long hours and work-aholism into the Morgendorffers' kitchen and living room. Helen made up her mind that she'd had one daughter injured by Mrs. Crush's bad judgment and she wasn't going to give that woman the chance to let her other daughter get injured.


	11. Chapter 11

Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years. Chapter Eleven

 **Author's Note:** Daria is the creation of Glen Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. Harry Potter is the creation of JK Rowling and is the property of JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. I own neither and neither expect nor deserve financial compensation for this story. I am writing for my own amusement and for ego gratification.

The implosion of Mrs. Crush's ballet class did not mean an end to the damage done to psyches and friendships since Miss Genevieve's sacking. If there weren't as many physical injuries as Daria's knee, there were plenty of bruised feelings and damaged friendships. Jasmine had rebuffed Daria's attempt at reconciliation even before the Christmas pageant. As for the other dancers, there were still a lot of hard feelings between the "quitters" and those who decided to leave the class later on. The ex-ballerinas who were friends before Mrs. Crush became their teacher slowly began to sit, talk with each other and rebuild their friendships. Some, but not all, of the dancers who'd made friends during that time reconciled, but not all.

Daria was somewhere in the middle. She'd stayed with the class until her injury, but didn't resume when Mrs. Crush restarted the class in January. The class had impacted her own friendships; Daria was still on good terms with Jessie, but her friendship with Linda wasn't the same as it was before the Christmas pageant. They still hung together, but it was more because of their mutual friendship with Jessie than what had been their friendship with each other.

From Christmas until late January, Daria's knee healed but slowly. A week or so after the New Year, Helen and Jake were forced to confront the possibility that Daria's injury could imperil Helen's and Jake's travel plans for the third weekend of the month. It was a trip that Jake and Helen had thought about doing since September, but Daria was still in a leg brace, Veronica was coming up on her third birthday, Quinn was only five, and none of the girls were old enough to leave alone with a teenage baby sitter.

The prospects for Jake's and Helen's travel plans improved somewhat when Dr. Kinder, the girls' pediatrician, said that Daria had recovered enough so that she and her sisters could be left with a baby-sitter for a couple of days, provided that the sitter was a responsible adult.

Even as Daria slowly recovered, Jake's and Helen's travel plans looked to be hitting one roadblock or other even before Jake could drive Helen's car out of the driveway. Helen did find a responsible sitter after a couple of interviews, a woman she'd had met at a Rotary Club meeting. Unfortunately, Betty got a phone call from her ailing mother and was forced to cancel so she could travel to Wichita Falls to care for her.

Both Jake and Helen were despondent. Their daughters' health and welfare came first, of course, but it would have been nice to get out of town for the first time in years. Furthermore, Helen's conference covered new legal developments and the conference Jake had booked for himself was designed for marketing experts trying to set up their own businesses. Both parents felt cramped in Highland, and they really hoped to leave the South Plains, the Permian Basin, and their oil-boom-and-bust local economy behind them. Helen dreaded the prospect of being so trapped in Highland that even a move to Midland would be a quantum improvement. Her feelings about Midland were contagious; even little Daria had them.

Two nights later, both parents lay in bed, looking at the ceiling and trying to think of ways to find and vet a reliable sitter for the girls.

"Maybe we should consider Delta Snopes?" said Jake. "I've heard a couple of the neighbors say that she watched their kids without tearing their houses apart."

"I wouldn't mind having Delta babysit the girls for an evening," Helen replied, "but I think she's still too young to watch them overnight or for a weekend."

Jake frowned. He couldn't think of anybody. He felt the walls closing in on him, something he'd begun feeling after the first couple of hopeful years in what he saw as this new town.

"Jake, I'm at my wit's end," said Helen. "I thought I found someone after Hattie had to say no, but they just cancelled. If we can't find someone suitable and fast, we'll have to cancel and stay here."

Jake thought that Helen was probably right, but he could still hear after-echoes of both Mad Dog Morgendorffer and Corporal Ellenbogen mocking "quitters," so he felt obliged to make one last effort before giving up. "Let me try to find someone tomorrow," said Jake. "I'll ask around at work. If I can't find anyone, we'll cancel tomorrow evening."

Early the following afternoon, Jake was in the company washroom. Jake had finished doing his business and was washing his hands when John Fuentes came in. John was a man coming up on fifty, his dark hair turning gray, with a spreading waistline. John was an assistant warehouse manager and likely to become a manager in his own right if the bosses carried through their proposal to open another warehouse in San Angelo. Unlike Jake, who'd spent the first couple of years of his life as a military brat and then in a former coal-mining town in Pennsylvania, John was a local who'd made good.

"Hey, Jake," said John.

"Hey John, my man," said Jake. "How's it going?"

"Life is good," said John. "Plans for the following weekend?"

"Not this weekend," said Jake, "But the weekend afterwards."

"Oh, yeah, that conference your Missus wanted to go to. So how are your plans for that trip going?" asked John.

"We may have to drop them," said Jake. "We've tried to find a reliable adult sitter to look after the girls for a few days, but the last person we tried had to cancel."

"I might know somebody," said John. "Bob and Lisa Sanchez. Bob and Lisa grew up here in town, moved away for a few years when Bob joined the Army, then moved back after school started so Lisa could look after her mom. He's studying to be an EMT for the county; she works as a medical technician over at the VA hospital."

"Here, Jake, let me give you their phone number," said John. He dug in his pocket for a small spiral notepad, wrote down their names and telephone number, and gave it to Jake. Jake took it and put it in his pocket.

Jake called the number when he got home. Bob and Lisa were both in. Jake talked with both of them, discovered that they knew John Fuentes, and his conversation with them pretty much confirmed what John had said about them. The fact that both of them were medical professionals lifted his spirits. If the Sanchezes could survive his wife's scrutiny, Daria would be in almost as good hands with the Sanchezes as she would have if he and Helen had to stay home. Jake also learned another interesting fact about the Sanchezes; they were living in a house a little over half a mile away from Whirlwind Drive.

Jake arrived home that evening in an upbeat mood. "Helen, I think I found a pair of sitters at work," he said. "We'll be able to go to that conference in Dallas after all."

"Who are they, Jakey?" said Helen. Jake could sometimes make some truly flakey decisions about who to trust, as she remembered from her hippy days.

"Bob and Lisa Sanchez," said Jake. "John Fuentes, the assistant manager, vouched for them.

"Are they local?" said Helen.

"They moved to Highland six months ago," said Jake. "But," he added, seeing storm clouds rising in Helen's expression, "both of them have ties with Highland going back to before we were born."

"Let me talk to them first," said Helen.

The Sanchezes came over the following evening. Helen managed to get off work early so she could meet with them and to see if Jake had chosen carefully. The Sanchezes also brought their children. Helen silently gave Lisa Sanchez credit for thinking of that. If the children didn't get along at the first meeting, it was best to close negotiations now and cancel their trip.

The Sanchezes were about five years younger than Jake and Helen. Lisa Sanchez was a brunette with a figure that Jake's mom would have described as being on the wrong side of Zaftig. Both were Mexican-American, howbeit third generation. Bob, or Beto, as he was occasionally called, had done a hitch in the military and had been a medical corpsman; he was thinking of becoming an EMT paramedic. Lisa was a medical technician and had recently returned to Highland and the work force when her younger daughter was old enough to enter kindergarten. They'd returned to Highland because Lisa's parents were ailing and they needed her to help take care of them. The Sanchezes had an older daughter who looked a little like an older version of the Aldrete sisters. She and Daria didn't have much to say to each other, but both she, Quinn, and their youngest daughter Mary found TV shows they both liked.

"Man, what happened to you, girl?" said Beto.

"I slipped and fell during the Christmas pageant and hurt my knee," said Daria.

"I heard about the pageant, but we missed it," said Beto. "But Jeez, I didn't know that ballet could be that dangerous," said Beto.

"So who had been changing your bandages after you got home from the doctor's?" said Beto.

"My Dad," said Daria.

"He did a good job," said Beto. "Was he in the military?"

"No," said Daria. "He was in military school before he went to college, but he never joined the Army or anything. He decided to be a hippy instead."

Beto thought about Mr. Morgendorffer and his decision to be a hippy. It was hard to imagine the short-haired guy in a suit as a long-haired hippy. He'd chosen to join up himself, but he sensed that Morgendorffer probably wouldn't have cut it. He'd been better off not going in. Some people just weren't cut out for the service.

"Tell me about your bandage," said Mr. Sandoz.

"My knee bandage needs to be unbandaged and re-wrapped at least once a day, although Dr. Kinder thinks that twice would be just as good," said Daria.

"So who is this Dr. Kinder?" asked Beto.

"He's my pediatrician, also Quinn's and Veronica's," said Daria.

"So you need to change out the bandage on your knee?" said Beto. "Here, let me get something. He got up and came back with his overnight bag. "Here, let's try this," he said. "It's an old folk remedy." It looked like an elongated tea bag; the resemblance was even stronger when he pressed it against her knee and Daria could hear the faint crackling of dried leaves and herbs. "My parents used to swear by it."

He started to bandage Daria's knee, then stopped. "Oops, I forgot," he said. "You're supposed to wet it first before you put it on." He got up, walked to the hall bathroom sink, ran some water, then came back with the dampened object. He then finished rebandaging Daria's knee with the package on the inside.

Daria was dubious about Mr. Sanchez's remedy. It was damp and slightly smelly, and didn't seem like anything modern or medicinal that she could see. Yet in spite of her skepticism, her knee felt better in a way it hadn't since before her injury.

Mr. Sanchez applied the package again the next day. "If you can't do it twice a day every day for two weeks, try to do it as close to it as you can. It might take three weeks, but you'll feel better."

"What's that packet called, anyway?" asked Daria. "It doesn't seem to be a tea-bag."

"It's called a poultice," said Mr. Sanchez. "It's a very old form of folk medicine. People have been using poultices for centuries."

Daria didn't think that much of home remedies as a rule, but the Sanchez's home remedy seemed to be working. The pain in her knee had gone down again by Saturday evening. By the time she saw her parents again late Sunday night, Daria's knee no longer hurt nearly so much.

"So how were the sitters?" asked Helen.

"Despite the fact that we didn't have that much in common, I liked them," said Daria.

"Mom?!" said Quinn. "The Sanchezes have been putting weird packages on Daria's knee!"

"They're called poultices," said Daria. "They're making me feel better."

"Those things are icky and gross, especially when Daria takes them off," Quinn retorted, curling her lip in disgust.

Quinn expected both parents to jump in and put a stop to Daria's funny medicine and was completely surprised by her parents' reactions.

"Daria, do those poultices work?" said Jake.

"I think they do, Dad," said Daria, a note of wonder in her voice. "I feel better than I did on Friday morning. Maybe these poultices work."

"Mom!" began Quinn.

"Helen," said Jake, ""Do you remember the time I clobbered my elbow at the warehouse?" said Jake. "Oscar Contreras used a wet patch a lot like what the Sanchezes put on Daria and things began to clear up."

Quinn's mouth fell open in amazement. Dad seldom intervened in this sort of discussion. She was floored by what her Mom said next.

"Quinn, honey," said Helen, "back when your father and I were first married, we tried alternative medicine when we were thinking about moving onto the commune. I don't know if those poultices work or not, but they make your older sister feel better. That means a lot to her-and to me-even if they aren't necessarily what are doing the healing."

"I don't care if you feel disgusted by them," said Helen, "but Daria can continue using them until the Doctor says no. On top of that, if _**anything**_ happens to Daria's poultices, I'm holding _**you**_ responsible, and _**you**_ will be punished for their disappearance, just like I'd hold you responsible if you took anything out of our medicine cabinet and threw it away. The consequences are grounding, no allowance, no dessert, no cookies, no ice cream, no television, and no having friends over after school. "

Despite Quinn's complaints that the poultices were smelly and icky, Daria continued to use them for the next three weeks. She unbent slightly when she and Dad changed them out: she threw the used poultices away in the kitchen garbage can instead of in the hall bathroom.

In mid-March the weather began to change. Spring hadn't quite made it to Highland yet; there were still cold days and a couple of nights where the temperature dropped below freezing, but much of the month was pleasant by mid-afternoon.

Daria was sitting on a couch facing away from the front window when the front doorbell rang. _"If it's Preacher Babcock or one of his Bible-waving friends, I'm going to give her a piece of my mind,"_ she thought. She gathered her crutches, levered herself onto her feet and hobbled to the front door.

It wasn't the preacher. Instead, it was a doe-eyed girl who wore her brown hair in two long pig-tails. She wilted at Daria's glare.

"Oh, excuse me," said the girl. "Oh, like, really excuse me. I didn't know you were using crutches."

"Like is this the Morgendorffers' house?" she said.

"Yes," said Daria.

"Like is Quinn home?"

"No, she's out," said Daria.

"Like, I'm sorry if I'm late, but she's supposed to meet me here," said the girl.

"Well, she's not back yet," said Daria. "She and Mom had to go to the store. They should be back in an hour or so."

"I'm Stacy," said the girl, "Stacy Rowe."

"I'm Daria," said Daria. "I'm Quinn's older sister."

She opened the door a little wider. "You might as well come in," said Daria. Stacy followed her inside.

Daria noted that Stacy at least had the good manners to close the door behind her. Daria hobbled back to the couch and sat down.

"Like I didn't even know that Quinn had an older sister," said the girl. "She talks about her little sister Ronnie, but she didn't say anything about having an older sister."

"Well, she does," said Daria. "I was here first, so that makes Quinn my younger sister."

"So like how far apart are you?" said Stacy.

"We're nineteen months apart," said Daria.

"Do you remember her coming home from the hospital and everything?" asked Stacy.

"No," said Daria. "I was a little young. I remember Ronnie coming home from the hospital, so the best I can do is extrapolate. Of course Quinn was born when my mom and dad were living in Austin, so I'd probably have to wing it."

"So like you weren't born here, you were born somewhere else," said Stacy. "Like where is Austin? Is it in Texas? Like is it really far away? Can you tell me anything about it?"

Stacy was irritating. Stacy was every bit as much of a chatterbox as her younger sister, but unlike Quinn, Stacy started acting like she was doing something awful when Daria tried to ignore her.

Daria irritably put down the book she was reading. This girl was not going to shut up and let her read.

"Austin's about 300 miles away," said Daria. "It's the state capital."

"The capital, hunh?" said Stacy. "That is so cool. Like my parents met when they were going to the University of Maryland and my mom was from a town called Lawndale and my Dad was from Carrolton and then my older sister was born and my dad got a job with the VA and we recently moved here and like I don't know anybody except I met your sister last week on my first day of school and she told me to come over and that she'd be here."

Quinn could talk non-stop from when she got home until she went to bed. Daria had learned to tune her out. She hadn't learned how to do so with this new girl yet; of course they only met a few minutes ago.

Daria once heard one of the older ladies she saw at United Grocery say that one of her neighbors could talk the ears off a brass monkey. Quinn's new friend clearly also had that gift. She was relieved when Quinn came home and took Stacy off her hands.

A couple of days later, the For Sale sign on the Wises' house was changed to SOLD. Daria wondered who the new people would be. She only had a couple of days to wonder before she actually saw them.

Daria and Helen went back to the pediatrician's a couple of days after the "SOLD" sign went up on the Wises' house. Ronnie was with them since Helen wasn't going to go to work that day. Dr. Kinder welcomed them in and invited the three Morgendorffers to sit down, bestowing a smile to Veronica as well as to Daria. "From what I can tell and what you've told me the last time we talked, you're a long way from being healed," said Dr. Kinder. "If it's not healing properly, your knee may require surgery," said Dr. Kinder. "I'll have to send you to the lab for more pictures so we can find out."

Helen then drove Daria and Ronnie over to the clinic, signed Daria in, and waited until it was Daria's turn. When it came, Daria sat on the table while one of the nurses took off her leg-brace. Her knee had stopped hurting several days ago and she wondered if she'd recovered enough to get rid of the d### thing. She hated it every time she had to put it on.

The technician unwrapped her bandage and threw the poultice away. The technician looked at the poultice, looked at Daria, and shrugged. Daria decided that having it gone when she got back to Doctor Kinder's would probably be a good thing. Daria lay down while they took pictures. Afterwards, one of the technicians at the clinic rebandaged Daria's knee while she and her Mom waited for the lab to process the x-rays of her knee. Daria, her Mom, and Ronnie returned to the pediatrician's and both took seats in one of the examination rooms while Doctor Kinder looked over the x-rays.

Daria thought that Ronnie was being a remarkably good sport about this. If Quinn had been in Ronnie's place, she would have fussed and complained. For that matter, Daria suspected that she would not have been too happy about things either.

They didn't have to wait long. Doctor Kinder's face was a mixture of emotions as he came back into the examination room. Daria wasn't as good as some grown-ups at reading grown-ups' faces, but did she see something that looked like wonder in his face.

 _Nah,_ she told herself.

"I don't think your daughter is going to require surgery after all," said Doctor Kinder. "I don't know how it happened, Mrs. Morgendorffer, but your daughter's injuries seem to have almost completely healed. Did you use any special treatments to speed the healing process?"

"Well, the people who were sitting Daria and my other girls put some wet patches underneath Daria's bandages while they were minding her," said Helen. "They made her feel better. They didn't break her skin and she didn't run up a skin rash while they were on, so we kept on using them for the last several weeks."

Dr. Kinder frowned. Another one of those weird miracle cures. He's seen well over a dozen during his ten years' practice in the Highland area. He tried to track down the sources of the folk cures but kept running into hearsay, denial, disconnected phone numbers, and other dead ends. It was frustrating in the extreme, but there was nothing he could do about it.

Most of the time, the people who used the poultices were Mexican nationals, and when they weren't, they tended to be Mexican-Americans. He rarely ever saw any of the Highland area's Anglos or Afro-Americans tuck poultices under their bandages. Somehow, though, the Morgendorffers had found a way to get access to some and their daughter was making a speedy recovery.

He or his nurses had found them before when he changed or removed casts and bandages. He's sent a couple of used poultices off to labs for testing, but in spite of having some success at identifying those poultices' components, nobody at the labs could ever make them work.

It was frustrating. He'd bring up the matter before the county board of health or other health agencies so his colleagues could flag them as another quack remedy that their patients should stay away from, except that the poultices often worked on their patients, if not in medical laboratories..

It was like the people in the local Mexican-American community who knew something about the poultices and how they were made and worked were playing games with him, sending him up and down one bunny trail after another, the trails inevitably running into disappointments, blank walls, or dead ends. The names he'd been given were either pseudonyms or people who had moved out or had been given herbal supplies by friends and relatives. He was left with nothing but the knowledge that some of the poultices worked for some people some of the time, but he was unable to either see how they worked, why they worked, or replicate the results.

He'd grown tired of chasing the sources for the poultices down bunny trails. He'd been in the Highland area for over a decade now. He was beginning to think he'd never track down who made the poultices or how to use them correctly, especially the changing political climate. In another time and place, he might have been able to find the resources to see just how they worked, but this was Texas, and funding for such research was not likely to appear, especially for a little out-of-the way place like Highland. He'd seen the writing on the wall; just getting funding to pay for treating low income patients was going to be difficult with the changes in the Texas legislature.

Also, he wasn't getting any younger, and of late he'd felt the desire to tear up roots and move. He'd divorced several years ago and his children were either old enough to move away from home or were on the cusp of getting there. He and Janelle, his steady girlfriend, were getting tired of the area around Highland and had lately been talking about his closing his practice in Highland and setting up a new one in Orlando, Florida.

Dr. Kinder shook his head. "Well, your knee looks good," he said. "Still, let's schedule a follow-up visit in a couple of weeks so we can make sure your daughter's knee is healing properly."

He turned to face Daria. "In the meantime, young lady, don't try and strain your knee again," he said. "I don't want you back in here."

"Do I need to wear that leg brace or use crutches?" asked Daria.

Doctor Kinder thought of the other "miracle cure" patients he'd treated with arm and leg injuries. He thought Miss Morgendorffer had recovered, but he'd prefer that she didn't take risks just yet. Telling her to use the crutches until she came back in would force her to be careful.

"You don't have to wear the knee brace anymore, but you still need to use crutches outside the house. Inside, you won't need them to go to the kitchen or take a shower."

"No, but remember what I said. Take it easy until you come back here for the follow-up."

The next day was a Saturday. The people who had bought the Wises' house finally showed up. The new people had a U-Haul truck with an auto in tow, along with a second auto with one of the two-axle U-Haul trailers attached. Daria wondered where they were from. She ignored the U-Haul license plates; they didn't mean anything. Both of the cars had Alabama tags, though. A Confederate flag sticker was placed at the lower left corner of the station wagon's rear window. Daria, Helen, Quinn, and Veronica watched as their new neighbors entered their new home.

Daria could see them: a thickset man with a red face wearing a baseball cap and a tall, thin, bony-faced woman, she also glimpsed a heavyset girl running around like she thought she was important and doing something useful and wanted everybody else to know it. For some reason, the new neighbors reminded Daria of a group of western pioneers who didn't like each other very much, but huddled together anyway for mutual protection against outlaws and hostile Indians.

"Look, Daria," said Helen. "The neighbors have a daughter who's your age."

Daria looked over at what had been the Wises' house and saw the girl her mother pointed out. She had a round face, limp brown hair, and a stocky build that Daria thought looked a little like her dad's. Her face had an angry look. Daria wondered if that was because the new neighbors were busy or if it was an expression the girl wore all the time.

The new people didn't move in immediately. They set to work repainting the front rooms in something they liked. Daria was disappointed to see that it was some sort of sand color; she remembered the colorful murals that Mrs. Wise had painted on the walls when they owned the house, first buried under the plain white the realtors had applied to make the Wises' house more salable, now covered again by the new people's sand-colored paint.

Disappointed, Daria decided not to go over there. The new neighbors' paint job was yet another sign that the Wises had moved away.

Despite her recovery from her torn knee, Daria didn't feel like being especially active. She decided to crack open a new children's book that she'd checked out of the school library. She wished the Wises had moved back in. She knew that was silly, but that was how they felt.

Quinn decided to cross the street and introduce herself to the neighbors. She came back inside with an angry expression after slamming the front door closed.

"So how were the new guys?" said Daria.

"They're jerks," said Quinn. "I don't like them. That girl's named Nancy. She's _**your**_ age and she called me a brat. Her mom told me that I was in the way and to go home."

Daria scowled. There were lots of times that she didn't like Quinn, but Quinn was her sister. That was the new people's first official entry in her bad books.

She had a shock the following afternoon when she looked in the new people's front yard. They'd torn out all of the Wises' plants.

It wasn't until later that Daria learned that there weren't just three of the new neighbors, but five. There was supposed to be a brother somewhere, and an older sister who had run off.

Daria didn't actually meet the new girl until school. Late on Tuesday morning, the new girl took an empty seat in Mrs. Johnson's classroom. During roll call, Daria learned that Nancy's last name was Carrew.

Despite the fact they hadn't been introduced, the new girl recognized her. "So you're the girl with the glasses who lives across the street," said Nancy. Daria could tell she had a Deep South accent.

Daria looked back at her."Yeah," she said. "I'm also Quinn's and Veronica's older sister."

Nancy looked at Daria and frowned.

"So what's your name?" asked Nancy.

"Daria Morgendorffer," said Daria. "I know yours."

"Morgendorffer, hunh?" said Nancy. "that's a foreign name."

"It's as American as yours," said Daria. _I don't think I like this girl,_ she thought.

"So where were you born, Daria?" asked Nancy.

"Austin, Texas," said Daria. She didn't like Nancy implying that she was some sort of foreigner. After all, she was born here and Nancy was from Alabama.

"Austin, hunh?" said Nancy. "A bunch of hippy pagans and god-hating homos."

Daria thought about the guys who'd beaten up Jonathon for supposedly being a homo and inwardly scowled. Nancy ignored the visual cue.

"So are you born again?" asked Nancy.

"I think I was only born once," said Daria. "I don't remember it very well." Daria knew that she was stony ground for those would-be evangelists trying to convert Highland's school children to their particular religions. Before she'd learned wariness, Daria had shared that her Dad was Jewish, and a couple of the evangelicals responded by saying that her Dad faced eternal damnation unless the evangelist could talk to him about Jesus. The last ones who tried to convert her came from a Christian sect that banned dancing for their members and Daria curtly told her that she wasn't interested. The outraged evangelist told her she was going to Hell, and said that Daria's knee injury was divine punishment for her lack of faith. It was all Daria could do not to punch her.

"So why did your parents pick Austin for you to be born in?" asked Nancy.

"My parents were living there and Brackenridge Hospital had a maternity ward, so Mom and Dad didn't have to share a manger and stable with sheep and an ox," replied Daria.

Nancy's eyes bulged and her face went red with outrage.

"God is not mocked!" said Nancy.

"Who's mocking God?" said Daria. "I'm just making fun of someone who has big ideas."

"Blasphemer!" said Nancy. She got up and walked away, sending dirty looks in Daria's direction. She didn't watch where she was going, and brushed against another second-grader who was busing her tray, causing the second-grader to spill the contents of her tray all over her skirt and onto the floor. Nancy kept on going without stopping to help pick up the mess.


	12. Chapter 12

Daria Ravenclaw PPMB Part Nine Epilogue

 _Casa Morgendorffer Highland, Texas, August 1992_

It was that time of the year again, a time when the contents of Daria's trunk were wildly out of synch with the shimmering heat of a mid-August Texas afternoon. Daria had already packed the Hogwarts uniform robes, hats, vests and jackets she'd be wearing when school started. She was going to run her blouses through the washer and dryer later; they'd need ironing before she could pack them. She decided that she'd better do a sock inventory before she left for Britain; last year she'd found herself one pair short and had to make do with only two pairs of socks until she could dicker with a third year for an extra pair. This year she wanted to be prepared.

She opened her dresser drawer and found the drawer resisting when she opened it. She made a face. She knew what that meant; one or more pairs had probably fallen to the back of the dresser and she'd have to pull out other drawers to find them.

Daria pulled the lower dresser drawer out, put it aside, and went feeling on the bottom of the dresser for any loose socks or other clothing that had fallen there. She found a sock, a couple of pieces of paper, and two familiar-looking gauze packets containing dried leaves and herbs. She remembered the time she'd injured her knee during the Holiday pageant and the poultices Mr. Sanchez had first wrapped inside her bandage.

Five years older, two years of Hogwarts schooling under her belt, a better feel for magic, not to mention a more cynical view of the world, Daria wondered about that sort of "Mexican folk medicine." She went out to the kitchen, sealed the dry poultices inside a zip-lock bag, and put it in her trunk. This was something she wanted to talk about with experts.

 _Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland, September 1992_

The second week of classes, she took advantage of a free period to place herself in line as a mixed group of first-year Gryffindors and Slytherins were waiting to have their potions checked and graded by Professor Snape.

Professor Snape looked up and saw her.

"Miss Morgendorffer," he said.

"Professor," she said politely.

"What brings you by at this hour?" he said. "Your class isn't until Tuesday."

"Something from home—I mean Texas," she said, reaching into her pocket and pulling out the dry poultice.

Professor Snape looked at the dry poultice and set his lips together.

"Interesting," he said. "Follow me to my office."

Daria followed the Potions Master to his office.

"Please be seated," he said, using his wand to move a straight-back chair in front of his desk.

"I imagine you have an explanation as to how you got that. "

"Yes, sir," Daria replied. "When I was seven years old I injured my knee during a ballet performance at my grammar school's holiday pageant. One of the house-sitters my parents found before they went to Dallas on a business trip the next month put them on my bad knee, then I used them for several weeks after that."

"I assume you recovered," said Professor Snape.

"I later learned that if these were ordinary folk cures or even Muggle medicine, I should not have healed that fast. I should have taken months to heal, assuming that I healed at all. That set me to wondering. I wouldn't have mentioned the poultices at all except that a couple turned up while I was packing to go to school."

"How interesting—and archaic," said Professor Snape. "Poultices were once extensively used by healers to cure muggle and wizarding diseases and physical injuries. In most parts of the wizarding world, they have been supplanted by potions, occasionally by potions and supplemental wand-work. I find it interesting that your little backwater still uses such techniques. I suppose you have an explanation as to why they might do so."

"Yes, sir," said Daria. "The wizarding community near my home town is small, and most of the wizards and witches who live there are related to each other. That's one reason that it took so long for MACUSA to find me; I wasn't related to any of the wizards and witches living there and they had a hard time believing that a white girl in Highland could be a real witch."

"Interesting, but irrelevant," said Professor Snape. "Please continue."

"Despite the fact that I wasn't related to any of the local witches or wizards, they recognized that I was a witch a long time before either Big MAC or my parents knew I was a witch," said Daria. "When I got hurt, they decided to help. I think that whoever-it-is who makes potions and poultices knew that neither of my parents were part of the wizarding community and that they'd balk if they tried to get me to drink a potion, especially if there were bad side-effects after the first dose."

"So why would your parents accept poultices if they wouldn't accept potions?" said Professor Snape.

"Poultices are still part of Mexican folk medicine traditions," said Daria. "Furthermore, a lot of the Mexicans around Highland are poor and can't afford regular doctors. They might not be able to pay for a visit to a clinic, but they have enough money to pay for treatments from the right healer."

"But you aren't Mexican, Miss Morgendorffer," said Professor Snape.

"No, Sir. But I think the healer guessed that while my parents might think that poultices aren't real medicine," said Daria, making air quotes, "they might think that they wouldn't hurt when used in conjunction with Muggle medicine. Add to that a slower healing time, and people might be less inclined to ask whether the healing was done by magical methods or by muggle means."

Professor Snape looked at her, saying nothing.

"I thought about it a lot on the flight from Dallas back to Britain," said Daria. "The witches and wizards living around Highland are mostly related and they look after each other. I now wonder if they were looking after me, even though I'm not related to them. And they looked after me anyway, when they didn't have to."


	13. Chapter 13

Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years. The Real Chapter Twelve.

Daria is the creation of Glenn Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. Harry Potter is the property of JK Rowling and is the property of JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. I own neither, and neither expect nor deserve any financial compensation for this story. I am writing for my own amusement and ego gratification.

Author's warning: This chapter contains scenes of explicit racial bigotry.

As the last week of March approached, Helen knew that her eldest daughter's eighth birthday was coming up soon. Despite the fact that Daria wasn't as fiercely competitive with Quinn as she and Rita had been, she knew that her eldest would feel slighted if she had a poor party. Not that organizing a birthday party would be easy. Unlike her sister Quinn, Daria was not much of a party-planner. In that, she took after her mother; Helen also had to admit that she wasn't that talented in that area, either.

Fortunately, Mrs. Markham had considerable talent in that area. Helen knew it and contacted her. Together with Daria, they decided that despite the fact her birthday was on a Thursday, they'd hold it on the following Saturday.

Now that they had a date and a time, Daria, Helen, and Mrs. Markham started making arrangements. With a little assistance from Helen and Mrs. Markham, Daria began to call people and send out invitations. She not only invited Jessie, Dale, and Linda, but also some of the ballerinas like Gloria, Farrah, and Gail. She sent an invitation to Wilma, a pleasant girl who'd been taunted by Mrs. Crush about her weight. She decided to take a risk and invite Stacy Rowe; despite the fact that Stacy was a non-stop talker, Stacy could entertain those of her friends she didn't really know how to talk to.

Daria also sent an invitation to Jasmine. Despite Jasmine's lingering coolness towards her; Daria still admired her. Happily, Daria got a "yes" from Jasmine; she thought she'd made a permanent place on Jasmine's books because of Mrs. Crush's actions back in October.

"I'm surprised that you haven't invited more people from your class," said Helen.

"I don't really like most of them," said Daria. "The girls I do like in my class, I've already invited."

"Why don't you invite that Carrew girl from across the street?" said Helen.

"No," said Daria. "I really don't like her."

"Daria, you could do well to expand your circle of friends a little more," said Helen, "and sometimes first impressions are wrong. The Carrew girl is your age, she lives just across the street, and it would be so nice to have another good friend who lives nearby."

"Mom, I see Nancy Carrew every day," replied Daria. "I think we're past first impressions. I think we're up to several dozen now, and I still don't like her. She's a nasty, bullying, narrow-minded bigot."

"I believe that your impressions are mistaken," said Helen. "You are only eight, after all. You will send an invitation to Nancy Carrew."

"No," said Daria.

"I'm going to override you," said Helen. "The Carrew girl gets an invitation."

"No," said Daria. "Inviting Nancy Carrew is a bad idea and bringing her here will wreck the party and cost me friends."

"Daria, sweetie, you're being as melodramatic as your sister," said Helen. "Whatever the girl's personality flaws, she's a good Christian and will behave like one."

Dorothy Markham's eyebrows rose. Despite the fact that her daughters didn't live almost across the street from the Carrews, both of them spoke poorly of the new girl from Alabama.

"Mom, I'm warning you that this is going to go south, and if it does, I'm going to remind you about this for years to come," said Daria.

The matter of the guest list settled, Helen, Mrs. Markham, and Daria started to plan party games and activities. Of course, there'd be a birthday cake and small party favors. But there'd be other things, too. One of the first things they decided on was that there would be a piñata as well as a Pin-the-Tail-on-the-Donkey game. They quickly dismissed horseshoes; despite the fact that the guests would all be pre-teen or younger, both Helen and Daria were secretly worried that Jake would come by early and toss a horseshoe or two over the fence in a burst of enthusiasm.

If horseshoes were nixed as a bad idea, all three of the party planners decided on setting up a croquet set. Grandma Lillian Barksdale had sent Daria matching and seemingly irrelevant, howbeit expensive, wooden croquet sets. Quinn had already tried hers out and had lost a couple of pieces, but Daria's had lingered in its package while she was wearing her leg brace. There would be enough balls and enough mallets for girls wanting to play. That settled, Daria started writing invitations, calling people, and occasionally making personal invitations at school.

The guests started arriving about 10:00 AM. Jessie and Luz were the first ones to arrive; Jessie said that Linda might come by later. But if Linda didn't show up, a lot of the ex-ballerinas did, including Gloria, Gail, Farrah, and Wilma, a chubby girl who worked hard in the classes but had been viciously ridiculed by Mrs. Crush about her weight. Jasmine showed up about half-past, followed by Nancy Carrew, who arrived fifteen minutes later.

Jake wasn't there. He very much wanted to attend his oldest girl's eighth birthday party, but his manager sent him on a sales call to Brownwood and he wouldn't return in time.

Most of the girls were surprised at Daria's younger sister's absence. Despite Quinn being two grades below most of them, Quinn was already attracting notice from the older girls.

"So where's your sister Quinn?" asked Gloria. "I've seen her at school, but I wanted to see her on her own turf."

"Quinn's off with friends this morning," said Helen. "She'll be back this afternoon."

Before the party started, Helen told that at larger parties, Daria would have to get up and circulate. Despite the fact that Daria had decided that the corner chair facing away from the TV would be a good place to perch, she periodically got up, howbeit usually with a little bit of prodding from Helen, and tried to talk a little with some of her guests.

Not that Daria acted like a poor hostess when she did circulate. She wasn't silent or only gave monosyllabic answers to her guests when she did circulate. She was happy to see Jessie at the party, as well as the other ballet dancers.

Dorothy Markham looked wryly at her friend Helen's oldest daughter. "Helen, your oldest daughter just isn't a party girl," she said. "I just can't imagine her trying to organize a large party on her own, unless maybe it's a party of witches."

"I'm afraid I wasn't much of a party girl myself," said Helen. "That was one of the reasons I ran away to Middleton, so I wouldn't have to do the debutante thing like my older sister Rita."

In the meantime, both Nancy and Jasmine had spotted each other. Both girls eyed each other with suspicion, although they didn't say anything. Luz also gave Nancy the stink eye; she didn't know why Daria would invite her, but if the redneck girl behaved herself, she wouldn't make a stink.

Despite the tension around Nancy's presence, most of the other girls were enjoying themselves. They talked about school, the things they and their families were doing, and waxed nostalgic about the ballet class. The girls were still happy about Mrs. Crush's getting fired. They'd heard rumors about Mrs. Crush's rash and her foot problems, and they hoped that it meant she'd never come back. Still, they wished that the arts council would find somebody else, preferably at least as good as Miss Genevieve had been.

Since it was April and still two months away from the blazing heat of a Texas summer, many of the girls drifted out to the back yard and the croquet set.

Gloria looked at Daria's informal croquet playing field with amusement. "I didn't even know you played croquet," she said.

"I don't," said Daria. "My grandma sent me a croquet set last Christmas, but I was in that leg brace until a couple of weeks ago, and this is going to be new to me."

"I don't know the rules," said Daria. "Do you?"

"Not really," said Gloria, "but that won't stop me from trying."

Most of the other girls were in the same position as Gloria. They had either never seen anyone play croquet, let alone pick up a croquet mallet and whack a ball, so most of them were willing to take turns at holding one of the mallets and trying their luck.

Nancy held back and sneered.

"Croquet," she said. "That's a girly game for girlie-guys and wimps. I bet you can't name one famous American who ever played a sissy game like croquet.".

"President Rutherford B. Hayes," said Wilma. Daria's eyebrows rose. Apparently somebody outside her little circle also liked to read things.

"Billy the Kid," added Farrah.

"Who?" said Nancy.

"Rutherford B. Hayes, the President after U.S. Grant," said Daria.

"Billy the Kid played croquet," said Farrah. "There was a famous photo of him holding a croquet mallet back in the 1870's, and it was in _Great_ _West_ magazine. My granddad is a Wild West fan."

"Winslow Homer also did several paintings showing American croquet players," said Gail.

Nancy scowled and went inside. Daria didn't care. Her friends were out here and a couple of girls hadn't had their chance to play with the croquet mallets yet.

Daria watched Jasmine put a couple of croquet balls through the hoops to touch against the peg.

Croquet wasn't the only amusement in the Morgendorffer back yard. The Hawleys, the people living in the rental house next door, had a mutt named Digger who was excited about the goings-on in the Morgendorffer yard and reacted to the goings-on with happy barks and running back and forth on his side of the property line. Digger was a doggie escape-artist extraordinaire, and had found his way into the Morgendorffer back yard more than once. The latest countermeasures, a chain-link fence, seemed to be working, but nevertheless Digger attracted a small, shifting crowd of admirers who tried to talk to him and even try to pet him through the fence.

Daria went back inside to see how her other guests were doing and saw that they were eating snacks and watching a little television.

Mrs. Markham clicked off the television and then stood in front of it. A couple of the girls glared at her for a little while, but let it go.

"Girls," she said, "We've got some party music and afterwards we can whack the piñata."

Dorothy Markham clicked the "play" button for the portable cassette player she'd bought to the Morgendorffers'. Despite the fact that she was anything but a professional DJ, she'd made good choices, not only playing adult pop music, but a little country and western dance music, mixed with some Disney tunes.

Despite their initial irritation, some of the girls stepped out and made part of the living room a de facto dance floor.

Wilma was enjoying herself as much as the rest of the girls on the dance floor, but she had to take a break. "Mrs. Morgendorffer, I've got to go potty," she said.

"Can't you use the one in the hallway?" said Helen.

"I'd like to, but that Nancy girl is still in there," said Wilma.

"You can use the one in the master bedroom, but you have to be very quiet," said Helen. "My youngest daughter is napping in there."

Wilma tried to be stealthy, but wasn't quite quiet enough to avoid awakening Veronica. A little red-headed girl followed Wilma out of the master bedroom to see what was going on.

Daria's youngest sister became the instant center of attention. "So that's your baby sister?" said Gail. "She's cute! How old is she?"

"Ronnie's going to be two in June," said Daria.

Ronnie got up, toddled, fell down, got up, toddled several more steps, fell down again, got up, toddled several more steps, then sat down.

"She's either going to be a track star or the prima ballerina if they ever get a real ballet company here," said Farrah.

"You've got a great baby sister," said Gail. "Don't let her get away before I get back!" She got up off her chair, walked to the hall bathroom, and knocked on the door.

She came back a short time later with a frown on her face.

"Nancy's _**still**_ in there?" said Daria.

"Yup," said Gail.

 _She has been in there a long time_ , thought Helen. _Maybe I ought to go check on her._ She didn't think the Carrew girl had any health problems, but the idea of her passing out in the bathroom without notice made her uneasy. She thought about it, and realized that the Carrew girl had been in there for the better part of half an hour. The girl might have passed out or needed medical attention.

The hall bathroom had a lock for privacy, but the lock was part of the door knob mechanism, and the doorknob had a tiny hole in its center that allowed someone with a strong, stiff wire to trip the lock and open the door in an emergency. Jakey had insisted on installing such a door lock when they bought the house and she and Jake had tripped the lock a couple of times when Daria and Quinn had locked the door by accident.

Helen decided that it was time to go in. She opened the door of the utility closet and picked up the converted coat-hanger Jake had remade for such emergencies. She walked past a still-waiting Gail and inserted the thick, stiff, coat-hanger wire in the hole, and tripped the lock. She dropped the hanger and opened the door before Nancy could stop her.

"Nancy, are you all right?" said Helen. She then looked at the girl and the clutter on the bathroom floor and her eyes opened in surprise. "WHAT IN THE WORLD?" she said, her voice full of incredulity and the beginning traces of anger.

Nancy sat on the commode in shock and consternation, surrounded by girls' opened wallets and purses. Helen was certain that at most only one of them might have belonged to the girl, the rest of them almost certainly belonged to the other party guests and her daughters. Gail bent around Mrs. Morgendorffer and took in the scene with her own eyes.

"Dorothy," said Helen. "You'd better come here. We have a situation here and I need you."

Farrah had been the next girl in line to use the commode after Gail and ran back to the living room to pass on the word to Mrs. Markham that Mrs. Morgendorffer needed her.

"I think you'd better step out of the bathroom right now," said Helen.

"I wasn't doing anything," Nancy protested.

"That's not what I see, young lady," said Helen.

"You have no right," Nancy blustered.

"I have _every_ right," Helen. "You were stealing from other girls'purses. Do you want me to call the police?"

At that Nancy wilted, and came out of the bathroom, escorted by the glares of Helen Morgendorffer, Dorothy Markham, and Gail. Behind them, Farrah looked inside the now-vacated hall bathroom and her eyes went wide in surprise and shock.

"Dorothy, could you turn off the music?" said Helen. "And Daria, could you pull up a chair for our— _ **guest**_?" The way Helen said "guest" could have wilted a pond full of water-lilies.

Nancy sat on the chair.

" I didn't steal anything," said Nancy. "Look at the ######. I'll bet she did it!"

"Nancy, you were in the bathroom with a lot of purses that weren't yours," said Helen. "You were in the bathroom for nearly thirty minutes."

"But I found them in there!" protested Nancy.

"Well, if that were so, why didn't you come out and tell me or Mrs. Markham?" said Helen.

"Because you're a bunch of ######-lovers and you wouldn't have believed me," said Nancy. "I mean, there's the ###### over there. She did it and you all are blaming me!"

Helen stared down Nancy with a look that combined outrage, anger, and disgust. "How dare you accuse Miss Masters of stealing! You were found in the hall bathroom with a lot of other purses that belonged to other girls. Miss Masters has an alibi and witnesses who can place her in the back yard, in my kitchen, and in my living room. Don't try to lie your way out of it."

"You people are a bunch of ###### lovers!" said Nancy. "No wonder you don't believe she did it!"

" _What a liar!"_ thought Daria in loathing and disgust. It wasn't just that Nancy was lying to cover her theft, but that she lied so poorly and so brazenly. Her lies were so utterly untrue that nobody but an idiot could believe them.

Daria glanced over at Jasmine. Jasmine's face flickered with anger and then went blank. Daria remembered Mrs. Crush and how she rejected Jasmine for the role of lead dancer for the Dance of the Winter Queen because of the color of her skin. The stuff is flying again, only this time it's flying in MY house, thought Daria, clenching her teeth in anger.

Daria decided that it was time to speak up. "Jasmine didn't do it," she said. "She's either been out in the back yard, in the kitchen, or in the living room. She has witnesses who can say where she was. You don't."

"Mrs. Morgendorffer," said Jasmine, pointing her finger at Nancy. "Who invited _that_ girl here?"

"I did," said Helen. She felt a wave of embarrassment. "I see that it was a mistake."

"I didn't steal anything," said Nancy. "She's lying. Look at her. I say she did it!"

"Mrs. Morgendorffer," said Jasmine. "I know you meant well, but I don't like going where I'm not welcome. I'd like to use your phone so I can call my Mom to pick me up."

"I'm sorry," said Daria. "I didn't_" she began.

"Morgendorffer, don't say anything," Jasmine interrupted. "No matter what you say, you're going to make it worse."

Daria's eyes began to blur with teardrops.

"Jasmine, you can either use the one in the kitchen or the one in the master bedroom," said Helen. "Just let me know when you finish." She frowned. "I have _other_ calls to make," she said grimly.

Jasmine went into Daria's Mom's and Dad's bedroom and came out a couple of minutes later.

Nancy started to get up to leave. Gail put her hand on Nancy's shoulder and pushed her back down.

"Sit down," said Gail with a glare. _"Thief!"_ she added.

Helen then called Mrs. Carrew and asked her to pick up her daughter. Maisie Carrew was at home, for better or worse.

Maisie Carrew arrived a few minutes later with a volley of multiple doorbell chimes and a tattoo of hard knocks on the Morgendorffers' front door. Daria and Helen simultaneously hoped and prayed that Mrs. Masters wouldn't come by at the same time.

Helen opened the front door and was met with Maisie Carrew's angry glare.

"What is the meaning of this?" said Maisie.

"I'm asking you to take your daughter home _**now**_ ," said Helen. "I found her in the hall bathroom with a bunch of purses that didn't belong to her. She then went on to lie about it, insult one of my daughter's guests, and then accused the guest of stealing. She is no longer welcome here, and I want you to take her _**out**_ of my house."

Maisie Carrew looked around the living room and saw not only Daria, but took note of Luz and Jasmine. She muttered something under her breath that Daria didn't quite catch,

"You accuse _my_ daughter of stealing?" began Maisie. "And you believe _them_ instead of her? I ought to call the cops."

"Why don't you?" said Helen sarcastically. "I don't care if it wrecks your afternoon. _Your_ daughter has already halfway wrecked _my_ daughter's birthday party. At this point I don't mind making more trouble."

"Nancy," said Maisie. "Get up. We're going." She sneered. "No point hanging around with a bunch of stuck-up people who think their stuff doesn't stink and that they're better than us."

Nancy followed her mother out the door. Farrah was closer to the door than Helen; she slammed it shut before Helen could reach it. She and Helen could hear the Carrews' raised voices and the sounds of slapping dopplering away as the Carrews headed back across the street.

There was an awkward silence in the living room.

"Good riddance!" said Gail.

"Yeah!" said Farrah.

"All right, I think it's time for everybody to check on their purses," said Helen. She went back to the bathroom, picked up the wallets and purses, and brought them out to the dining table.

Nancy Carrew had ransacked most of the purses she'd taken with her into the hall bathroom, including Luz's, Gail's, and Jasmine's. A couple of the girls lucked out; they'd chosen to hide their purses or kept them with them and Nancy hadn't looted their purses.

Even with Nancy Carrew gone, the awkward silence lingered. Mrs. Markham tried to kill it by turning the party music back on, but didn't quite succeed. The awkwardness was interrupted for a moment when Mrs. Masters walked up to the front door and rang the doorbell. Daria wanted to say "I'm sorry" or "Thanks for coming anyway" to Jasmine, but the words fell flat even before she could even speak them. Jasmine turned and left with her mother, closing the door behind her.

Daria tried to keep a stiff upper lip, but her eyes were brimming with tears.

Jessie and Gail put their hands on her back. "It's not your fault, Daria."

"We're still your friends, in spite of what's-her- name," said Wilma looking at the door.

Daria could feel the party spirit dying all around her when Gail spoke up. "Well, I don't know about you all, but I want to whack a piñata before I go home!"

"Piñata!" "Piñata!" "Piñata!" she started chanting.

Gail's attitude was infectious. Farrah took it up, then Gail, then Jessie. Soon, other girls started chanting "Piñata!" "Piñata!" "Piñata!" Helen and Dorothy looked at Gail, then at each other, and smiled. _That girl was going to go places,_ they thought.

Helen went back to Daria's and Quinn's bedroom. She frowned. It was messier than it had been at the start of the party, messier than it ought to be; some of Daria's and Quinn's possessions had been strewn on the bed and on the floor. _"Had that Nancy girl been in there?"_ she wondered. But the piñata was still there, as were the hollow plastic bats Helen had bought for the girls to whack it.

She took the piñata out to the patio, and used the string to hoist the piñata to just above the taller girls' heads. The piñata didn't last very long despite the girls having been blindfolded and using plastic bats. Helen watched Daria come out of her gloom as Luz gave it the coup de grace and the girls scrambled for the candy on the patio floor.

After the piñata met its doom, Helen and Dorothy gathered the girls together and Daria opened her presents. Despite the fact that she wasn't a fashion-doll girl, Daria got some home-made doll clothes that the Wises had bought in Mexico. She also got a set of combs and brushes for herself, some inexpensive costume jewelry, couple of childrens' books and a gift certificate a chain bookstore in Midland. Jessie had gone with the Morgendorffers to a toy shop to buy presents for her cousin Miller and had bought a couple of plastic figures as a joke; one was a stag with a very impressive set of antlers, another was a mermaid, and the third was an ugly green-skilled witch with a long, warty nose that looked like she ought to be bending over a boiling cauldron.

Helen went back to the master bedroom to check if Veronica was awake. She was, and was seated at the table in her high chair. Helen and Daria lit the candles on the birthday cake shortly afterwards. The girls watched as Daria took in a deep breath to blow out the candles.

"Make a wish, Daria!" cried Jessie. Daria took in a deep breath and blew. She didn't manage to blow out all the candles at once. Despite her best efforts, a couple of candles flickered and then came back to life.

The girls applauded Daria, ate their birthday cake, and the party began to wind down as the girls' mothers stopped by to pick up their daughters or the girls phoned home.

Jessie Markham and her mother Dorothy lingered after the rest of the guests left. "We'll help you clean up," she said.

"I appreciate it," said Helen.

"Friends help you move," said Dorothy. " _Real_ friends help you move dead bodies."

"Dorothy, I'm going to pretend that I didn't hear that," said Helen with a smile. "As a lawyer, I am an officer of the court, you know."

Quinn and Dale came in about thirty minutes later while Daria was picking up plastic cups and paper plates from the back patio.

"So, how was Daria's birthday party?" said Quinn. "Was it as big a bore as I said it would be?"

Additional author's notes: Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years is a period piece, following JK Rowling's Harry Potter timeline and the action is set roughly between 1984 and 1990. Until the events of early July this year (2016), I'd hoped such explicit bigotry was something confined to a dark, ugly past. I appear to be wrong.

On less somber notes, the late President Rutherford B. Hayes (in office 1877-1881) really did play croquet. Also, a tintype photograph dating to 1878 made public in October 2015 reportedly shows the real Billy the Kid posed with a croquet mallet. In my AU story, the photo was discovered several decades earlier.


	14. Chapter 14

Daria Ravenclaw The Highland Years FF Chapter 13

Author's Note: Daria is the creation of Glenn Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. Harry Potter is the creation of JK Rowling and is the property of JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. I own neither, and neither expect nor deserve financial compensation for this story. I am writing for my own amusement and for ego gratification.

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Daria's younger sister Quinn and her friend Dale Markham came in about thirty minutes later while Daria was picking up plastic cups and paper plates from the back patio.

"So, how was Daria's birthday party?" said Quinn. "Was it as big a bore as I said it would be?"

Daria looked at her Mom. She wasn't going to answer this question and lose face.

"Much of it went very well," said Helen. "I was surprised and pleased with the number and quality of _most_ of Daria's friends."

"So how was Nancy?" said Quinn. She'd heard Daria complaining about having to invite Nancy Carrew to her birthday and then complain some more when Nancy accepted her invitation.

"I had to ask her mother to take her home," said Helen. "She was rude and insulting to Daria and her other guests and then I caught her stealing from other girls' purses."

Quinn's jaw almost dropped open in amazement. She knew the older girl from across the street was nasty, but didn't expect **_THIS_** from her.

"She's been in our room," said her older sister. "That's where a lot of girls left their purses."

" _Eeuuuh_ , YUCK!" said Quinn. "Daria, how _could_ you?"

"I didn't have much choice, remember?" replied Daria. "I sure as heck didn't want to invite her."

Daria went back to picking up the litter in the back yard and the patio while Quinn went back to their bedroom. She hadn't dealt with the mess Nancy had made yet. She didn't even want to think about it. But she'd have to eventually, if for no other reason that she didn't like sleeping on the living room couch and all her clothes were back there.

She stepped back into the kitchen for a moment to get a zip tie for the garbage bag and knew the moment that Quinn had seen the mess Nancy had made in their bedroom when she yelled "WHAT THE HECK HAPPENED?!"

"Daria, Sweetie, why don't you help Quinn take care of the state of affairs in your bedroom?" said Helen.

"We're about done here," said Mrs. Markham. "We'll be going home in just a minute. Why don't you help your sister help set things back right?"

The Markhams said their good-byes and Mrs. Markham gently waved Daria in the direction of her bedroom.

Daria went back into the bedroom she shared with Quinn. She felt like her space had been violated and she really wanted to change her sheet and bedspread to get ride of the essence of Nancy but she couldn't.

Quinn had already straightened her bed and was closing her night stand drawer when she noticed Daria.

"That Nancy!" she yelled. "What a _creep_!"

Daria could only agree.

"She took some of my books!" yelled Quinn. "She stole some of my favorites!"

 _"And she took some of Ivana's accessories, too!"_ said Quinn. Ivana was one of Quinn's fashion dolls, and Quinn was almost as outraged at what Nancy had done to Ivana's wardrobe as she would have been if Nancy had stolen Quinn's own clothes and shoes.

Somehow Daria bit down on her temptation to say that Nancy had done Ivana a favor. Most of Ivana's clothes and shoes had come home with her from the store just before Quinn's birthday, and were probably in danger of going out of style in a couple of months, at least if Ivana was as dressy as her namesake and wasn't a fashion doll. Daria had all she could do to avoid making a chuckle.

She turned to the mess in her part of their room and started by looking in and under her bed. She'd stored some of her stuff under her bed usually because it was too large and bulky to fit anywhere else. Somebody had messed with a couple of the boxes that she used to store small knick-knacks, but she couldn't tell just by looking if someone had taken anything.

With a sinking feeling in her stomach, she started opening her dresser drawers and looking inside. Sure enough, someone had definitely rummaged through her things. She thought dark thoughts about the girl across the street, went back into the living room, and brought back the three figurines Jessie had given her, and set them on top of her dresser. She glanced at the green plastic witch, thought about Nancy again, and smiled grimly. A _**real**_ witch would have cursed her.

She then turned her attention to her small bookshelf. It was also a mess; someone had gone through it and a couple of her favorite books were missing. What had that ##### from Alabama done with them? Sharing classes three weeks or so with Nancy Carrew had taught her that the new girl was anything _**but**_ a devoted reader.

Daria's bookshelf had been a little disorderly even before the party. Well, now she was out of excuses not to do a little sorting and tossing. She picked up her wastebasket and moved it next to her bookshelf. To her surprise her waste basket was surprisingly full. She thought about what she would do if she was in a hurry and wanted to ransack someone else's room and not get caught and a suspicion formed in her mind.

Daria went back to the kitchen and picked up a couple of old newspapers as well as another plastic trash sack. She also borrowed Mom's spare pair of rubber gloves. The gloves were several sizes too big, but they were what she had. She spread the newspaper on the floor and prepared to empty the wastebasket.

She put on the gloves, then grimly set about plucking things out of her wastebasket. Nancy had not only looted her dresser, but had made a pass through her bookshelves and had thrown away some of her books. Her eyes narrowed. She'd half-expected this but seeing that it happened still made her angry.

"That #####!" said Quinn. "She stole my books!"

"She tried to throw some of mine away," said Daria. "She threw them in my wastebasket." She stacked the recovered book in a corner of the newsprint.

One of the books she'd pulled out and stacked didn't look familiar. "Here's one of yours," said Daria, waving it at Quinn.

"But it's been in the trash!" said Quinn.

"Nothing gooey or sticky in there," said Daria. _A good thing Nancy didn't think of that,_ she thought. That's what _she_ would have done if _she_ wanted to ruin somebody else's books. _Not that I plan to give Nancy any free lessons_. "If you want, you can either wipe it off or just put it back on the bookshelf."

Her Dad came home just as she and Quinn finished cleaning up most of Nancy's mess in her bedroom. He bellowed his outrage, announced his intention to go across the street to have words about the Carrew daughter's behavior, and Helen had to spend the next half-hour calming him down.

The Morgendorffers had a small, quiet informal take-out dinner. Daria spent the last part of the evening sitting next to her Dad watching television. She was not a very physical girl, but, as always, she let him put his arm over her shoulder. Tonight, though, she needed it.

The following day was a Sunday. Jake had gone to the store with Quinn, Veronica was napping, and Helen cornered Daria and said "Sweetie, we need to talk."

Helen led Daria to the kitchen table and invited her to sit. "I would like to apologize for forcing Nancy Carrew on you for your birthday party," she said. "I shouldn't have done that. When you said she was unsuitable, I should have listened."

Helen saw that Daria was giving her non-committal look, as if she wasn't sure she believed her or not.

"I do try to look after you," said Helen. "I was concerned about your ability to make friends. I was afraid that you'd end up being a loner. I had a vision of you being all by yourself in high school dressed as a frump in a green jacket, oversized glasses, and wearing combat boots."

Daria gave one of her smiles. She wasn't planning to dress like a fashion model, but she couldn't imagine herself deliberately dressing like that.

"What I meant to say was that sometimes, Sweetie, grown-ups can have mistaken impressions about people just as girls your age can make mistakes about people. And sometimes, grown-ups assume that they always have a better read on their children's friends than they do. I was very wrong about the Carrew girl and hope you will forgive me for it."

"I also want to say that I underestimated your judgment," Helen continued. "You may not be the most social girl I've seen, but you surprised me with your talent for choosing good friends. I was impressed with the girls you invited over here yesterday and I hope to see most of them again."

"The _next_ time, I'll trust your judgment and if you say no, we'll leave them _off_ the list, OK?"

"OK, Mom," said Daria. Helen hoped she'd made an adequate apology. She didn't know if Daria believed her, but she knew she tried.

In the following week, if there wasn't open warfare between the Morgendorffers and the Carrews, there was nevertheless unfriendly tension. Jake and Helen limited their actions to staying on their side of the street and the two daughters to staying on their side of the street and either throwing dirty looks at Nancy when she was in her front yard or ignoring her.

At school the story about Nancy's behavior got around. When a teacher asked about it, he got confirmation from some of the other girls at the party. Nancy might have gotten away with it unscathed, but she'd not only been seen by Mrs. Morgendorffer, but also by two of the more popular girls in second grade. Girls gave her cold looks and clutched their purses and backpacks more tightly when she was around.

There was a little more activity over at the Carrew house than usual. Some of their relatives had come to stay with them for a few days. Daria didn't see anyone who looked like they were Nancy's age, although she did see a couple of older boys who looked like they might have been in middle school. She saw them once or twice with Nancy walking around the neighborhood; she couldn't tell if they were leading Nancy or Nancy was leading them around. Daria decided that as long as they stayed on their side of the street, she would pay them no mind.

Two days later, Daria was watching Veronica toddle around the yard. Ronnie's transition from crawling to toddling was now well under way: Ronnie not only stayed on her feet most of the time but could threatened to outpace an adult's fast walk in a couple of weeks. Her Mom had said that Daria could let Ronnie run outside, but that either she or Quinn would have to keep a very close eye on her to make sure that she didn't get into trouble. Not that there was much in the back yard for Ronnie to get into trouble with; Ronnie had yet to learn to climb the slide's steps and the swing set needed new seats. Her Dad's and the Hawley's countermeasures looked to keep Digger on his side of the fence and not in the Morgendorffers' yard. . There'd been a television news story about a rattlesnake population spurt. Her mom parents had talked about it at the breakfast table, had said that Ronnie could go outside, but if Daria saw any snakes, she was supposed to grab Ronnie then immediately go back inside.

She remembered later that she'd gone back into the house to go potty. She quickly did her business, then hurried past Quinn so she go back out on the patio and resuming watching Veronica. She scanned the yard and Ronnie toddling towards the side of the yard opposite the Hawleys' fence towards something brown and coiled that rattled, a happy smile on her face. Daria instantly recognized that it was a rattlesnake, not a play toy, and screamed. She reached out with her arm and the snake somehow rose in the air, then flew over the Wilkinsons' roof to land somewhere along Dust Devil Way.

Daria quivered in shock and tried to regain control. It was done, she told herself. The rattlesnake no longer was in the back yard, no longer threatened Ronnie. She didn't know just how she'd manage to pick up the rattler and throw it over the house without touching it, she just knew that she did.

Ronnie hadn't realized that the snake had been dangerous. Ronnie was screaming and crying because Daria had screamed. Daria ran to her little sister, hugged her, and said " _Thank God, Thank God_ you're all right."

Helen came running out the patio door. "Daria! _What happened?!"_ cried Helen. "I heard both you scream and I knew that it was an emergency."

"Daria saw a rattlesnake in the back yard," said Quinn, "all coiled up and about to bite Ronnie. Daria saw it and threw the snake over the Wilkins' roof without touching it. I saw the snake, too."

"Yeah," said Daria. "It was a rattler. I don't know how it got into our back yard, but it was all set to bite Ronnie."

"So where is the snake now?" asked Helen.

"I don't know," said Daria, "Somewhere on the other side of the Wilkins' house, probably along Dust Devil Way."

"Well, I want you girls to come inside, and come inside _now_ ," said Helen.

Once all three of her daughters were safe indoors, Helen called Animal Control to report the presence of a rattlesnake in their neighborhood, and could they send someone out to deal with it soon.

Once Helen called Animal Control, she set about calming down her daughters. Veronica was the most hysterical, mainly because Daria screamed, Quinn was also shocky, but Daria was on the way to calming herself down.

Helen's efforts were interrupted when someone started ringing her doorbell, someone who wouldn't take no for an answer. Daria got up to answer the door and was surprised to see Nancy Carrew glaring at her.

"What the _Hell_ are you trying to do?" shouted Nancy. "Are you a witch or something? There I was minding my own business and a snake goes flying over your roof and on to the street in front of me!"

Helen walked over to the door at the sound of Nancy Carrew's voice. That girl was _not_ welcome in her house no matter what she said.

Helen looked down to see an irate Nancy Carrew glaring at her. Two older boys, in their early teens by the look of them, stood back. By their facial expression and by the distance they'd put between themselves and the Carrew girl, it was like they were trying to signal that this housecall wasn't their idea and they didn't want anything to do with it.

"Can I help you?" said Helen. After Nancy's behavior at Daria's birthday party, Helen wasn't about to let the Carrew girl come inside.

"Did you know that your oldest daughter is a demon-worshipping witch?" said Nancy indignantly. "I was minding my own business walking down the street when somebody screamed and a rattlesnake flew right down in front of me and onto the street!"

"It was not right in front of you," said one of the boys. "It was at least thirty feet away. Even _you_ could outrun it!"

"Shut up," said Nancy to the older boy.

"Well, I think she needs to see Jesus and stop sinning!" said Nancy.

"Your daughter is a _witch_!" shouted Nancy. "She's worshipping the devil, cursing God-fearing people and throwing snakes!"

"Is that all?" said Helen cooly, first eying Nancy Carrew, then the two boys standing behind her. The boys saw her expression and blushed and shuffled with embarrassment. They'd hoped to use this incident to give their younger cousin a chance to make a fool of herself, and now they were worried that she'd succeeded in making them look like idiots in front of this neighbor lady.

"I'll think about it," said Helen, giving all three members of Nancy's delegation another cold look before closing the door.

Helen turned her back to the front door and took a couple of deep breaths to compose herself so she could think more clearly. This was another one of Daria's weird things. Or was it? Maybe it was a bit more.

Helen went back to settling down Ronnie and then Quinn. Then she sat down and tried to put the events of the last hour or so in chronological order. Daria went inside to go potty, talked briefly with Quinn, then went back outside and screamed when she said saw a rattlesnake. Quinn also said she saw a rattlesnake. After that, Daria somehow So there had been a rattlesnake in the back yard. Somehow, Daria managed to throw the snake out of the yard, or so she said. Could her story be true after all? On the face of it, Helen wouldn't have believed it. Picking up poisonous snakes? Her daughter was smarter than that. She wouldn't try to pick one up; she'd leave them alone.

Throw them over the Wilkins' roof? The very thought of it made Helen smile. Daria was anything but a Don Mattingly-caliber baseball pitcher. She could imagine Daria maybe throwing a baseball onto the Wilkins' roof, but over it? Not likely. A rattlesnake? Certainly not.

Then Nancy Carrew marched up to her front door and accused her oldest of being a witch and attacking her with a snake.

Helen didn't think she could call her eldest a witch, but she couldn't believe that both Daria and Nancy would get together to tell her such a wild story. Daria and the Carrew girl hadn't know each other very long before Nancy nearly wrecked her daughter's birthday party, but she knew that the two girls hated each other. Daria and the Carrew girl had known each other for less than a month, and she knew that the two girls hated each other.

That meant…And Helen owed Daria an apology.

Daria had gone back to the older girls' bedroom. The bedroom door was shut. Helen knocked on the door and entered it. Daria was sulking on her bed.

"Can I talk to you, Sweetie?" said Helen.

"What do you want?" said Daria irritably.

"You saw Nancy Carrew at the door a couple of minutes ago?"

"Yes," said Daria.

"I came in here to tell you how proud I am of you," said Helen. "I don't know how you did it, Sweetie, or if you have any real control over it, but I now believe that you were able to throw that snake out of the back yard."

"Whatever that Nancy person may say or what any of her friends say, assuming she has any, you did a good thing. You protected your little sister and you probably saved her life. I'm so proud of you, I'm proud that you saved Ronnie, and that you're my daughter."

She gave her non-huggy daughter a hug.

A couple of weeks later, Daria was wondering if someone had been saving up for months to make April an especially weird month. However, she was pretty sure that this past weekend wasn't anything she caused.

It started well enough after school let out on Friday afternoon. She came home, put her books and school supplies away, and waited with Quinn for her dad to pick up Veronica and come home. When her Mom got in from work in Midland, her family went out to Chuck's Steakhouse for dinner. Every couple of weeks Chuck hosted a combo that played country and western music in a big room in the back of the restaurant.

They came back to the house on Whirlwind Drive and saw that the lights were on.

"That's odd," said Helen. "I don't remember leaving the lights on."

"Jake?" she said.

"We turned them off," said her husband.

"He did," said Daria. "They were off when we left."

"Did someone break into our house?" said Helen. "I hope not."

 _"A break-in?"_ said Jake. "Young punks! They might _still_ be in there!"

"Jake," said Helen, "let's let the professionals deal with it." She called the police and waited. A couple of Highland patrol cars came by.

The officer in charge was George Rowlett. He was a little older than Jake, and he looked and acted reassuringly professional. "Maybe you all ought to step outside," he said. "You might not want to be in here if the prowler is still here and he's armed."

Officer Rowlett quickly went through the house. Oddly enough, the doors were all locked, the windows were shut, and there were no signs of forced entry. It was as if whoever had burgled their house, assuming that someone had burgled their house, had vanished into thin air before the police could search the house.

The Morgendorffers spent the night in a motel, then returned to their house the next day so they could be there for the locksmith. Late the following morning, she saw a new kid in the neighborhood who called himself William. He stopped by their yard and watched her playing in the back with Quinn, then he left. Later that day he showed up at the Jessup sisters' sidewalk lemonade stand and had spent several minutes talking with her, which was how she learned his name.

He introduced himself as William Bartlett. He had an English accent, something very uncommon in Highland. He seemed nice enough, although he acted more like a grown-up than most kids near her age. She also wondered if William was his real name. When he showed up at the Jessups' lemonade stand, he spent a good long while talking to her. Daria thought that their conversations were more than a little weird. William's questions were more like the sorts grown-ups would ask kids than questions kids would ask each other. William also talked like a kid who was almost totally out of touch of what American kids and what she supposed most English kids would be doing. He said good-bye and left about the time that Joan Jessup returned to take charge of her lemonade stand again. Daria wondered why he left; Joan was better connected with what was fashionable and trendy than she was.

That evening, she was sleeping in the tent in the back yard with Dad, and what she thought was the Hawleys' dog tried to talk to her. **_Something_ ** had definitely been sniffing around the tent. She would have let it go by wondering how Digger had gotten through the fence this time, except the dog started talking.

Not only did the dog talk, but the things that it said were not the sorts of things Daria could imagine Digger saying. The dog had an attitude, a snob's attitude, particularly about breeding. Digger was the last sort of dog she thought would be a snob about breeding. So far as Daria knew, Digger's pedigree was pure mutt. For some reason or other, the dog had an English accent much like William's. The dog's attitude began to get to Daria; she finally pulled out the rolled-up newspaper she'd kept just in case Digger broke into their yard and needed to be reminded of who was who and what was what and brandished it. What she thought was Digger disappeared with a loud pop.

The next morning, she still wasn't sure about the Hawleys' dog trying to talk to her, despite the fact that she'd pinched herself while it was happening and still had the bruise the next morning. Looking back at things, it was also kind of hard to believe that Digger would cop that kind of attitude. The dream-dog was surly and snobbish, and sniffed about her breeding; the Hawleys' dog was a mutt and, canine sense of smell or no, was hardly in a position to talk about breeding one way or the other. The next day he was acting perfectly normal, as happy to see the girls on the other side of the fence as he was most days. The next day he was acting like his normal self, as happy to see the girls on the other side of the fence as he was most days.

Most of the time, the weirdness happened on weekends and during the holidays, then slacked off when she went to school. Not this time. First, Nancy Carrew claimed that a wandering preacher had come down their street and agreed with her that Daria was a witch and was going to hell because she threw the snake at her. Then, some English kid that nobody had ever seen before beat up Todd Ianozzi. Daria had heard rumors about Todd; he was supposed to be a bully and had either shaken down or beaten up some of the kids in the neighborhood on their way to school. Todd was supposed to live eight or nine blocks over. He might have been a problem for her except that Daria no longer went anywhere near Todd's part of the neighborhood.

She wondered what it was all about.


	15. Chapter 15

Daria Ravenclaw The Highland Years Teaser

Daria and its characters are the property of Glenn Eichler and MTV/Viacom. Harry Potter and its characters are the creation and property of JK Rowling. I own neither and neither expect nor deserve any financial compensation for this story. I am writing for my amusement and for ego gratification.

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"Coffee?" he said.

"Yes, please," she replied.

He poured her a cup, stopping about two-thirds the way to the brim. He didn't know if she put anything in it or drank it black.

She drank it. The coffee here was surprisingly good, especially considering that this was just an public elementary school's teacher's lounge. And not just any elementary school, either; this was the teacher's lounge in a Highland, Texas public school.

"What's it about the coffee around here?" she said. "The coffee at the last school where I worked was consistently horrible."

He laughed. "The coffee's one of the little surprises about this particular school. Mrs. Fuller takes her coffee seriously, and she tries to make sure that we have the good stuff. It makes up for much of the stuff we have to shovel."

"You're new here, aren't you?" he said. He could tell not only from the fact that he'd never seen her before, but from her accent. She sounded like she was from the East Coast somewhere.

"Yes," she replied. "I got hired a couple of weeks ago. I'm the new school social worker, I'll be taking over from Eloise Treadwell."

"So you're her replacement," he said. "I'd hoped they'd hire somebody to replace her when she left to have her baby, and not try to slide by without hiring anybody."

"I don't know very much about Highland," she said. "My ex-husband was posted over at Dyess just before he left the Air Force, and since he already had family in the area, he chose to remain."

"So why do you live here instead of Abilene?" he asked.

"We had differences," she said. "I filed for divorce, I needed a job, and the Highland Independent School District was hiring."

"Most people who know better about Highland try to leave," he said. "I'm surprised you didn't move back East."

"I can't," she said. "The divorce decree gave my husband joint custody, and I can't move out of state; I have to remain in Texas. So here I am working in a strange new town and I don't know diddly about it."

"Can you help get me up to speed?" she asked.

"I can help you some," he said. "You've probably seen that Highland is a medium-sized town. It's a shirt-sleeve town, just like Odessa. I'd be careful using the disadvantaged label, but it's not that far off. Counting the Mexicans and the Afro-Americans, most of its citizens come from working class or poorer backgrounds." He shook his head. "A lot of them are good people, but there's a lot of kids from broken homes, with parents or older brothers and sisters who abuse alcohol or use drugs, run in gangs, or have parents who got pregnant back when they were teenagers. A lot of their behavior reflects that. Many of them act out."

"It's rough being a kid here. There aren't many choices around here, and many of the kids lose hope for having a better life. Many of the more ambitious kids move away after they graduate. The ones that remain often have dead-end, low-paying service jobs. Some of the older ones try to join the military, but the military's more choosey these days, and a lot of these kids slacked off or dropped out before they think of talking to the recruiters."

"It's heart-breaking," he said. "A lot of your students come in here wanting to learn and then gradually lose interest. A lot of the kids here don't see any way out."

"So why are you still here?" she asked.

"Because a lot of the kids I teach come in wanting to learn something, and even if they never become another Jackson Pollock or even a second Norman Rockwell, they'll have something they'll be able to do on their own for the rest of their lives. Somebody has to give them that chance."

"I'm surprised that they don't make you the school social worker," she said.

"I'm not interested," he said. "I'd rather teach art."

She continued to see him for the next several days, occasionally in the teacher's lounge, twice in the parking lot, and once at the grocery store when she found him standing in front of her at United waiting for his turn at the check-out register.

A couple of days later she caught him alone in his office.

"What can you tell me about Morgendorffer?" she asked.

DRTHY*DRTHY*DRTHY*DRTHY*DRTHY*DRTHY*DRTHY*DRTHY*DRTHY*DRTHY*DRTHY*DRTHY

Author's notes: My sincere apologies for the long delay. There were a lot of reasons for the lack of updates, the off-screen reasons good, the on-screen reasons not so good. Among other things, I got distracted by a Daria—Star Trek crossover on another message board and by a side-story that started as a chapter for Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years and then grew to a novella in its own right. I plan to start posting it shortly.

I posted this teaser as an amends of sorts. I do plan to pick up the action for Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years about where I left it: back in Highland, Texas in April 1987.

"I don't think so," said Helen. "At least not yet. Your father would say that your Grandpa is just too mean to die."

Veronica thought that was funny and giggled. Quinn found Ronnie's giggle infectious and giggled, too.


	16. Chapter 16

Daria Ravenclaw Second Grade Troubles

Daria is the creation of Glenn Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. Harry Potter is the creation of JK Rowling and is the property of JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. I own neither, and neither expect nor deserve financial compensation for my story. I am writing for my own amusement and ego gratification.

There are no Harry Potter characters in this particular installment, which takes place after the events in _Daria Ravenclaw: No Country_ for Unpleasant Old Men.

Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years

"What can you tell me about Morgendorffer?" asked Jeanine Javert.

"Which one?" replied Diocles McGraw. "There are two Morgendorffer sisters. The older one has auburn hair and wears glasses, the younger one is a more typical red-head and doesn't."

"The older girl," the social worker replied. "She was scuffling with a Nancy Carrew. The principal wants me to talk to her. He's worried that she might be developing violent tendencies."

"That's weird," said the art teacher. "She's been around since kindergarten and I taught classes with her, and she doesn't have the reputation for being a violent kid."

"The vice principal told me that I should do something about her aggressive behavior before it gets out of control," said Jeanine Javert.

"If I were you," he said. "I'd go check that Carrew kid's background instead."

Jeanine saw the Morgendorffer girl in her office the following morning. The Morgendorffer girl surprised her. For an eight year-old girl, she was strikingly poised. She sat in her chair much like a queen, not arrogantly, just confident in her power.

"Hello, I'm Mrs. Javert," she introduced herself.

"I'm Daria Morgendorffer," said the young girl. "How do you do?"

"You know why you're here, don't you?" said Mrs. Javert.

"Yes," said Daria.

"You were in a scuffle with a girl named Nancy Carrew," said the social worker. "Can you tell me what caused it?"

"Nancy has been bullying a girl named Stacy Rowe," said the young auburn-haired girl. "I told her to lay off Stacy, but she wouldn't listen."

"And you know this how?" said Mrs. Javert.

"I saw Stacy huddled and crying in the Girls' Locker Room after gym class," said Daria. "She said that Nancy had been picking on her because she was friends with my younger sister and because her parents don't go to Nancy's church. She said that Stacy was nothing but trash and that she was going to Hell because she was friends with Quinn."

"Don't you think that this Stacy might be lying?" said Mrs. Javert.

"No," said Daria. "Stacy's not a liar. Stacy's problem is that she lets people walk all over her. Nancy saw her as a target and decided to start picking on her."

"Don't you think that you ought to let the gym coach take care of it?" said Mrs. Javert.

"Sure, if the gym coach would actually go and do anything about it," said Daria. "Stacy's already reported the bullying. So have I. But the gym coach says that Stacy should either suck it up or ignore Nancy."

"So did your shoving Nancy happen before or after you reported Nancy to the gym teacher?" asked Mrs. Javert.

"Afterwards," said Daria. "I gave the gym teacher a chance to do something about Nancy and she didn't." The girl's tone of voice sounded like that was something she expected. "I caught her bullying Stacy again and shoved her."

"You know Miss Carrew says you're lying," said Mrs. Javert.

"Of course she does," Daria said sardonically. "She's a Christian. Ask her, she'll tell you. And Christians _never_ lie. And if your eyes are telling you that something is different from what she says is happening, obviously your eyeballs are lying to you because they gave into Satan's temptation."

"Are you saying that Christians are all liars?" said the social worker.

"No, I didn't say that," said Daria. "I said that there are honest Christians out there. I just don't think that Nancy Carrew is one of them."

"Do you like the Carrew girl?" asked Miss Renfrew.

"No," said Daria. "She's a nasty, narrow-minded bigot."

"Is that reason to hit her?" asked Mrs. Javert.

"No. I can live with her being a nasty, narrow-minded bigot," said Daria. "What made me mad was that she was bullying Stacy Rowe in gym. Stacy was in tears and either the gym coach didn't see it or didn't care."

"Do you enjoy hitting other children?" asked Mrs. Javert.

"No, I enjoy reading and thinking," said Daria. "I don't like hitting or fighting. It shouldn't be necessary."

"Maybe this Nancy girl is picking on this Stacy because she's a local girl and this Stacy is a newcomer," said Mrs. Javert.

"Nancy's not from around here," said Daria. "She's from Alabama." She gave her a look that said _Are you_ _really_ **that** _clueless_.

"I think you need to learn that fighting is not the answer to your problems," said Mrs. Javert. "Whether or not you had the right of it, I'm going to recommend that you get detention anyway,"

"So do you think you've learned your lesson?" she asked.

"Yes," said Daria.

This girl's poise in this situation was starting to bother her. She decided to remind the girl who had the upper hand.

So what is the lesson?" said Mrs. Javert.

"I've learned violence causes problems. I've also learned that adults are lazy and they don't always do their homework," Daria responded.

She saw Mr. McGraw in the teacher's lounge that afternoon..

"I think you might be right about Miss Morgendorffer. That is one very intelligent young lady," said the school social worker. "I've seldom seen any kid that intelligent and composed at such a young age. It's a little scary."

McGraw gave her a shrug. "I've known her since she was five," he said.

"Nancy Carrew _is_ local, isn't she?" said the social worker.

"What gave you _that_ idea?" said McGraw. "She's from Alabama. Her accent shows it."

Jeanine Javert realized that she had a lot to learn about her new job.

Daria ran into Gail and Farrah later that day.

"So what happened when you went to the new counselor's office?" asked Gail.

"I got detention," said Daria. "The school counselor thinks I shouldn't have shoved Nancy."

"That stinks," said Farrah. "You were protecting your sis' friend from bullying. They shouldn't send you up for detention."

"Well, what can I do?" said Daria. She was perplexed.

"Daria, you're not the Lone Ranger," said Farrah. "You don't have to take care of it all by yourself."

"Daria, don't worry. We've got your back. We'll take care of it," Gail said authoritatively.

It was a couple of days after she'd been set up for Saturday detention. Her mom and her dad were angry with her for messing up their weekend. She finished changing out of her gym shirt and shorts and back into her street clothes. Nancy Carrew looked away from her gym locker and realized that she wasn't alone.

It wasn't just Morgendorffer, or even Morgendorffer and her stupid little sister, but six, no, seven girls her age and older. She'd been at Ferguson long enough to realize that these weren't just second-graders, but older kids. The sixth-graders were way bigger than she was.

"Hey, Nancy, just the girl we wanted to see," said Gail.

Nancy decided she could tough it out like her big brother. "Well, you got me. What's this about?"

"Because we want you to do something for us, Carrew," Gail replied.

"What?" said Nancy.

"We're asking you leave Rowe alone," said Gail. "What's she done to you?"

"Because she hangs around with Morgendorffer, and that' s a sin," Nancy stated.

"You got a beef with Daria?" said Gail skeptically. "So why are you taking it out on Rowe-Rowe?"

"Because Daria's a witch!" said Nancy.

"So, what's that got to do with it? Rowe's not a witch," said Gail.

"And we're supposed to believe it because-hmm," said Farrah.

" _Because I said so!"_ said Nancy. "And Rowe hangs around with Quinn Morgendorffer, and Quinn's Daria Morgendorffer's little sister," said Nancy. "So she's got to be a witch. Witchcraft is evil. Preacher Babcock says so."

"I've never seen Quinn Morgendorffer do any magic," said Gail. "And she doesn't take other people's stuff," she added pointedly.

"So, you say that your Preacher Babcock says that Christians shouldn't hang around with witches," said Gail.

"Preacher Babcock is a man of God," Nancy angrily retorted. "How _dare_ you question his word!"

"Because I can," said Gail. "He's not my minister. I don't have to listen to him. Especially when he's full of stuff."

"Well, you _ought_ to," Nancy desparately replied. This wasn't going the way it was supposed to; the last thing she expected was that these girls wouldn't fall into line. That was what Deacon Deadgrove said was supposed to happen when good Christians told God's words to sinners and slackers.

"I don't go to Preacher Babcock's church. I'm a Methodist," said Farrah

"I'm a Presbyterian," said Lyndsey.

"For the record, I'm also a Methodist," said Gail.

"Well, if you hang around with Morgendorffer, you're playing with witchcraft!" said Nancy.

"Carrew, listen up," said Farrah. "I don't play with those cards or use an Oujia board. I don't believe in that. I can tell your fortune right now. If you give Rowe-Rowe any trouble, or if you hassle either Morgendorffer, you're going to have a hard time."

A couple of days later, Nancy had to go potty and was waiting by the girls' room with a hall pass. She watched as Stacy Rowe entered it.

 _Great timing_ , thought Nancy. _That crybaby Stacy was in the girls' room all be herself_. She was about to go in when she was tapped on the shoulder by one of the fifth-graders.

"Problem, Carrew?" said the fifth-grader. The fifth-grader was named Lyndsey. Nancy remembered her from the locker room.

"I gotta go potty," said Nancy. "Rowe's in there by herself and she can't hog the bathroom all day."

Lyndsey looked at the Carrew girl and sneered. "You're a tough girl. In fact, I think you're so tough that I think maybe you can hold it until Rowe comes out and it's your turn to go in."

Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years

Author's note: No, this is NOT, I repeat NOT, an attack on Christianity. It is, however, a commentary about those individuals who use the excuse of religion to bully other people. We all know such bullies exist, and that religious bullying is NOT a problem confined to Christianity.


	17. Chapter 17

Daria Ravenclaw Highland Years Rodeo and Midland Mall Trip

Daria is the creation of Glenn Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. Harry Potter is the creation of JK Rowling and is the property of JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. I own neither, and neither expect nor deserve financial compensation for this story. I am writing for my own amusement and for ego gratification.

Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years* Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*

At lunch, Farrah waved Daria over.

"Hey, Daria," she said. "My grandfather has extra tickets for the Howard County Livestock Show and Rodeo. Want to come?"

Daria's first impulse was to say no. But she did owe Farah, and Farah talked a lot about her grandfather. Besides, it was something she'd never done before. She knew that while oil was important in Highland, ranching was the other big thing. Besides, she'd seen the ghostly cowboys running their cattle herds down Whirlwind Drive more than once. It might be interesting to learn a little more about cowboy culture. It wasn't the same as going to a museum or anything like that, but it was something.

Saturday detention wasn't much fun. While Daria knew that Dad was supportive of her sticking up for Stacy, she knew that Mom disapproved of her shoving the girl from across the street. With Daria's luck, it was Mom who drove her over to Ferguson that morning. She again told Daria that she disapproved of physical force, and worried that it might affect Daria's educational choices later on.

Daria spent the first part of Saturday detention writing "I must not shove people" over and over again, then silently sitting in a chair while a teacher divided her time looking at her and trying to catch up with her paperwork. She wasn't alone. Nancy Carrew was there, too, as were the two idiots, a guy named Butch who'd been fighting with someone named Red, and Oscar, who'd come late to school three times running. The Aldrete sisters were missing; they'd managed to keep their noses clean this week.

After writing her lines, Nancy first spent part of her time glaring at Daria when she didn't think the teacher was looking at her, instead of looking blankly at the chalkboard behind the teacher's desk like she was supposed to. After a while, the two idiots got bored and decided to try something else for amusement. Daria was old hat: they were used to her and she wasn't that much fun. The boys quickly discovered that yanking the new kid from Alabama's chain took the boredom out of a stupid Saturday morning. By the time noon rolled around, there was a pile of fired spitballs surrounding Nancy's seat, the teacher monitoring detention had lost her cool and Nancy, Beavis, and Butthead had been sentenced to another two weeks of Saturday detention.

Her Dad picked her up after detention and took her home. Daria was in a cheerier mood than she was on the ride over to school that morning. Her Dad might not have liked it that his daughter got detention, but if it wasn't a Roman triumph on the way home, at least it wasn't a ride of shame. As a matter of fact, he was proud of her for having stood up for Stacy Rowe, a girl that even he could see had deep insecurity and self-confidence issues.

"You know, kiddo, if you want to help your little friend, you're probably going to have to find ways to be sneakier. I remember some of the times I tried to strike back at some of the guys who gave me a hard time at Buxton Ridge; I tried to be sneaky but I always got caught. I'm grateful that you take after your Mom."

"You aren't saying that I should ignore it, are you, Dad?" asked Daria.

Jake frowned, trying to think it through. "Yes, no, I'm not sure," said Jake, caught between what he was taught what a parent should tell his kid and knowing that the official line didn't match how the real world operated. "But sometimes striking out when you're angry is a bad move."

When Daria got home, she called Farrah. Farrah said that she'd come along around 4:00 PM and said that Daria should put on jeans and maybe a western blouse if she had one. Daria wondered if Farrah thought she should dress like a cowgirl or if something was up. Daria didn't have anything like western boots, so she decided to make do with sneakers. Despite the fact that it was May and things were already warming up, Daria put on a tee shirt with a button-down blouse on top of that. She wondered what Farrah had in mind. Surely Farrah wasn't planning to have her get down and dirty with the animals, was she?

Farrash and her grandfather came by around 4:00 PM. Farrah's grandfather came to the door to introduce himself. He came inside and he and Daria's parents briefly chatted with each other. Mr. Skein was clearly a Western History buff.

"Have you ever been to a rodeo before?" he asked.

Daria said no.

"I think you'll enjoy it," he said.

Mr. Skein knew his Wild West stuff. He told her about how Texas ranchers like the Goodnights established cattle trails to Kansas and a connection with the railways building westwards up there, then with the Texas and Pacific when it started building west of Fort Worth after the Panic of 1873. Highland had been one of the loading points for cattle, where they'd been sent east to the slaughterhouses of Fort Worth.

He also told them that rodeo had derived from cowboys competing with each other to show off the skills they'd acquired to manage livestock, such as roping, riding, horse-taming, and branding, as well as games of daring like bull-riding and riding bucking broncos.

Daria had thought that they'd go directly into the coliseum, take a seat, and wait for the rodeo to start. Farrah and Mr. Skein quickly disabused her; they'd be visiting the live stock show first. Farrah said that she had a cousin who had an animal on display.

The bigger animals, like horses and cows, had enclosed pens. Daria wasn't quite tall enough yet to see over the lower railings; she had to take it on faith, her ears, and her sense of smell that there was a cow or a horse inside the pens.

The smaller ones, however, were considered just safe enough that they could be displayed without the risk of trampling or other serious bodily injury. One row had sheep, another row had pigs, a third row had goats, and a fourth row had much smaller pens for chickens and rabbits. Daria remembered that the ones for chickens were called coops and the ones for rabbits were called hutches.

Daria followed Farrah and Mr. Skein up the aisle with the goats and stopped at a pen about two thirds the way down from the entrance. There was a girl there with a well-groomed goat in an open pen. "Daria, I'd like you to meet my granddaughter Laura Penrick. Laura, this is Daria Morgendorffer. She's a friend of Farrah's."

Laura was a girl a couple of years older than Daria, with an oval face, gray eyes, and dirty-blond hair.

"Hi!" she said with a smile.

"Hi," said Daria, not knowing what to make of this girl. There were a couple of farm girls at Ferguson Elementary School, but Daria had never really talked to them.

"So this is your goat?" asked Daria.

"Yes and no," said Laura. "I've been raising and caring for it for a year, but it belongs to the Four H Club. After it gets judged, they sell it, and I get to keep the money for a school scholarship."

Daria, Farrah, and Mr. Skein left the livestock pens and walked over to the rodeo area.

The Rodeo started shortly after they'd taken their seats. It began with a procession of cowboys and cowgirls bearing the US flag, the Texas flag, and the Highland flag, followed by a couple of reproduction chuck- and ranch wagons driven by older, thick-bellied men in western wear, and finally by a large gas-guzzling convertible carrying this year's rodeo queen and her court.

Some of the cowgirls were not just pretty, but beautiful. Daria felt conflicted looking at them. They were beautiful cowgirls, and she was awed and a little jealous. At the same time, she still wanted to move away from a hick town like Highland and to someplace sophisticated, but sophisticated women didn't act or dress like cowgirls.

The preliminary announcements were followed by a short prayer by a local minister, asking for God's blessings on this event, the performers, and the spectators in Jesus' name. Daria wasn't sure as to how she felt about the prayer. If this was school, she might have objected to forced proselytizing , school was someplace you had to go and she objected to having religion forcibly shoved down her throat. Besides, Farrah was a believer, even if, unlike Nancy Carrew, she wasn't obnoxious about it. She decided to roll with the punch.

The flag-bearing cowgirls circled the arena again after the prayer and the rodeo actually started.

The first events were calf-roping and steer-wrestling. The calf-roping events was a little sad; small calves scared out of their minds being chased by cowboys on horseback with lassos, thrown to the ground, and then then suffering the indignity of having their hooves tied together; Daria secretly cheered every time a calf eluded the lasso or the cowboy messed up his knot-tying. Daria wasn't sure whose side she was on for the steer wrestling; on the one hand, she was a human like the rodeo cowboys, on the other, she didn't blame the steers a bit for wanting to get away from the cowboys and not get thrown onto the ground.

The steer-wrestling event ended with remaining steers released from their pens and let loose into the arena, then hazed out through another gate. A cowboy-clown stepped out into the arena and then began telling bad jokes.

"Why do they have clowns here?" asked Daria.

"Rodeo clowns aren't just there to be funny," said Mr. Skein, "they've got a serious job. They haze and distract bucking broncos and bulls if their riders get thrown or injured, or can't get out of the way."

The next event was bronco-riding. Bronco riding looked liked the sort of brainless sort of thing guys would do: find a horse that hates you, then try to ride it despite the fact it's clear that the horse just doesn't want you on its back. Mr. Skein told her that the rules for bronco-riding was that the cowboy could only have one hand on the rope while he rode the bronco; if he used both hands he didn't get any points. Daria was certain that she wasn't cut out to be a bronco rider, and furthermore, no way was anyone going to stop her from using both hands if anyone ever managed to trick her into mounting one.

The following event was barrel-racing. Unlike the events she'd seen earlier, barrel-racing was a girl thing, and the riders were all female. Unlike the flag-bearers and the rodeo queen and her court, the barrel-racers dressed for practicality, not glamour. The first girl was from a ranch near Bronte, who'd been considered a contender for the next level of the professional rodeo circuit. She lost points when her horse knocked over a barrel while she was making a turn. The second was a Lottie Perez from Lattimore. Lottie was clearly Latina, but she rode like a cowgirl, getting a much higher score than the first rider. The third girl was a Laurie Bede from Tuna. People in Highland looked down their noses at people from Tuna, and Daria was no exception: she didn't think that anyone from Tuna had enough brains to tie their shoelaces. Laurie proceeded to prove her wrong; she came galloping out of the gate, slowed to a fast walk so she could make a tight turn around the first barrel, trotted over to the second barrel and made another tight turn, trotted to the third barrel, then nudged her horse into a fast gallop and raced back to the starting gate to win that evening's top score.

"Oh, Daria, I signed us up for the calf-pull," said Farrah.

"What's a calf-pull?" asked Daria.

"That's where we get down and dirty and pull a calf across the arena and back to its mom," said Farrah.

Daria gave Farrah a look of disapproval. "I don't know if this is an honor or one of those occasions where I'll get you for this later on."

"Oh, lighten up, Daria," said Farrah. "This will be fun."

Farrah and Daria didn't go down to the arena immediately. There was a rodeo equivalent of a football game half-time show: In this case a spate of announcements, and public announcements, followed by a performance of a country and western band. A lot of people who went to rodeos didn't go because they wanted to see the events; they went to see the musical acts that performed at half-time: in this case, a country and western band that Daria had heard of that had managed to get some of their songs on the play lists, but wasn't popular enough with country and western fans to become a major star act.

A lot of people left after the band finished playing. Daria rose from her seat, too, but she and Farrah were going to go down to the arena for the calf-pull.

She stood at the starting line with Farrah and dozens of other kids from maybe nine or ten down to five or six. _I feel like an idiot_ , she thought. Looking to either side of her and Farrah, she saw other kids, some eager, some wondering just what they or their parents had roped them into. _But at least I'm not going to be the only idiot out here_. She looked way over at the end and saw two very familiar-looking boys wearing shorts and rock and roll tee shirts and recognized that she wouldn't be wouldn't be the biggest idiot out there after all.

The announcer, or the referee, or someone blew a horn, and it was a mad dash to find a calf to drag back to the finish line. The good ones were quickly taken by the more nimble or by those who'd practiced by chasing and capturing their family dogs. By the time Farrah and Daria got close enough to the edge of the mob or contestants to pick out a good calf to drag back across the finish line, all the good ones were taken.

Farrah and Daria found themselves at the far edge of the crowd looking for available junior bovines. Farrah was the one to find their quarry: "Hey, Daria, there's one!" It was a scruffy-looking calf that had chosen to head towards the far end of the arena.

Farrah walked towards the front of the calf so the calf could see her.

"Come along, Honey," said Farrah. "We're going to take you back down the arena so you can be with your friends."

The calf's response was to bawl for its mother and stay put.

Farah walked up to the calf and gave it a pat.

"C'mon," she said, "let's go."

The calf refused to budge.

Farah frowned and looked at Daria.

"OK, maybe if we both give it a nudge, maybe it will move," said Farrah. She bent down by the calf's front left leg to give it a shove. That didn't work.

"Maybe if we do it together?" she said. bent down by the calf's front left leg to give it a shove. Daria did the same on the right.

"On the count of three," said Farrah. "One, two, three, SHOVE!" Both girls shoved against the calf, thinking that they'd inspire it into motion. It didn't work; the darn calf just would not move. It bawled again for its mother and stayed put.

"Maybe it will move if we both pushed it on the same side?" asked Daria.

"Whatever," said Farrah. She was starting to get frustrated.

Both girls dug their feet into the arena, put their hands against the calf and gave it a shove. The calf

finally moved-in exactly the wrong direction.

"Maybe if we pushed it in the other direction, it would go where it's supposed to?" said Daria.

"Maybe," said Farrah, who had lost a lot of her self-confidence as far as making this particular calf move.

Something inside Daria snapped. Her temper was upon her. It was as if she was tapping into something that was both within and without her. _There went my membership in the Jedi Order_ , said a voice in her head. But if she doubted that she was tapping into the dark side of the Force, she realized that she was tapping into something, something deep inside her.

She took a couple of breaths, knowing that she was summoning something deep inside her.

"Now MOVE, DARN IT!" she shouted at the calf. And somehow, not entirely to her surprise, although that it wasn't entirely to her surprise was surprising, the calf began to walk towards the finish line. Farah got up off the arena, brushed the dirt off her denims' knees, and put her hand on the calf's spine, and together she and Daria walked the calf back towards her starting line. Daria kept glaring at the now-docile calf until about two-thirds of the way to the finish line, the calf saw the other calves mixed in with the little humans and trotted off in the direction of its fellows.

Farrah shook her head in wonder. "I don't know how you did it, Daria," said Farrah, "but somehow you managed to tell that calf who was boss."

The girls didn't win first place in the calf pull. They didn't win second place, either. Nor did they win third. On the other hand, they were among the roughly half of the contestants who'd managed to persuade their calf to go from the far end of the arena to the starting line; the rest of the kids hadn't even managed that, Beavis and Butthead among them.

Feeling pleased with themselves for having done even that much, they accepted the congratulations and limp-handed hand-shakes of rodeo officials and made their way back to their seats.

Daria grumbled about how dirty she'd gotten.

Mr. Skein wasn't that sympathetic. "This is a little bit like real-life ranch work," said Mr. Skein. "It's hard work and you're going to get dirty." He looked at the girls and the sand they'd gotten all over their clothes and much of their skin from the calf-ull. "You two are going to need to take baths when you get home," said Mr. Skein.

The rodeo ended shortly after the last display of guy-behavior: bull-riding. Daria learned that the rodeo clowns did have a serious job, one that required some nerve as the rodeo clowns hazed and distracted a particularly angry bull away from a bull-rider that had been stunned by his hard landing in the arena sand.

Mr. Skein and the two girls joined the crowd leaving the rodeo afterwards and walked to the parking lot. It took Mr. Skein a while to for the departing traffic to clear up enough space so his truck could leave the arena parking lot, too. The two girls had fallen asleep by the time that Mr. Skein was able to turn back onto a city street.

Jeanine Javert continued to catch glimpses of Diocles McGraw as James Ferguson's 1986-1987 school year drew to a close. The kids were going to be tested to see how much they'd learned. While that didn't matter that much with McGraw's art classes, Jeanine found that there was stuff aplenty to keep her busy. Still, there were opportunities to seize brief moments for food and conversation, and one afternoon, Diocles suggested that they go to one of Highland's remaining drive-in hamburger places to talk about things.

Martin's Burgers-2-Go was a knockoff of a long-disappeared national chain of car hop-style hamburger restaurants that somehow kept going because of the nostalgia the young marrieds felt for the place where they'd done their courting. Diocles didn't think that Martin's was long for this world; the oil bust had hurt Highland's adults' disposable income, and he worried that the spread of chains like Burger World might kill it.

The Morgendorffer—Carrew feud had receded in importance—Jeanine had to deal with several young children acting out, a pair of Mexican-American twins, two boys from dysfunctional backgrounds, and the children of a violent drunk who'd been ducking restraining orders, but the physical part had ended. The Morgendorffer and Carrew girls still disliked each other, but for some reason or other the little Carrew girl not only kept her distance from both Morgendorffer sisters, but also from the Rowe girl. Jeanine reluctantly had to concede that maybe Miss Morgendorffer had a point: the Carrew girl had been bullying the Rowe girl, and she'd acted without seeing the big picture.

"I just had a thought," said Jeanine."I think I've got an idea for getting the older Morgendorffer girl and the Carrew girl away from each other. Instead of keeping both girls in the same class and expecting them to make nice with each other, why don't we get the older Morgendorffer girl tested to see if she can perform at a fourth-grade level? If she passes, we can ask her parents if they'd mind if we bumped her up a grade. That way, she'll spend at least the first part of next year trying to get up to speed with her classmates and she won't have to interact with the Carrew girl as much."

"Good idea," said Diocles. "I think Daria's smart enough to handle fourth grade, but you might want to run your idea by Trimble to see if it would fly." McGraw's mention of Trimble made Javert frown; the vice principal did not like taking career risks and took refuge in TEA regulations to avoid making any decision that would threaten his career.

Jeanine Javert approached Vice Principal Trimble with her idea. Vice Principal Trimble agreed that it was a good idea, but that it was too late in the year for him to allow the older Morgendorffer girl to jump a grade. Maybe she could do it next year, he said, if she applied in time.

The following Friday, Helen Morgendorffer scheduled a family meeting.

"Girls," she said, meaning Daria and Quinn, "Summer's about here and I think it's time for you two girls to learn how to swim at the Y."

"I'd LOVE to learn how to swim!" Quinn exclaimed. Quinn knew that all the popular girls liked to visit either the YMCA's or the local swimming pool when it opened for the summer.

Daria was a little less enthusiastic. "Whatever," she said.

"Good!" said Helen. "We'll get you two enrolled for a class as soon as we can find a space."

Swim lessons would start the week after school ended. Helen asked the girls about their swimsuits and learned that both Daria and Quinn had outgrown them. This led to a combination trip the next day where Helen drove to Midland to drop off some paperwork and then visit a shopping mall to buy her older daughters new swim suits. Both Daria and Quinn were equivocal about the trip to the law office, but Quinn was ecstatic about a trip to the Mall. A swimsuit bought at a Midland shopping mall had a lot more status than something picked up at Kicker's Boots or ALCO.

To Quinn's delight, the store Helen went into was one of the big chains. Neither girl had gone shopping at this store before, and Helen had to ask where the store sold girls' swimsuits. Once they were in the right part of the store, Quinn decided that she wanted a two-piece swimsuit. It would make her look sexy. Daria, on the other hand, decided that she'd like a one-piece.

"Aren't you afraid you'll look fat?" said Quinn.

"No," said Daria. "Why should I? Besides, I'm only eight years old and talent scouts don't go looking for supermodels until you're at least fourteen."

"Oh, Daria, you're so naïve," said Quinn self-importantly. "They're already looking."

"I don't doubt that they are," said Daria. "But what sorts of perverts are looking at eight year-olds? A one-piece will work fine."

"Whatever," said Quinn, rolling her eyes.

As much as the girls would have liked to choose their swimsuits themselves, they were at a height disadvantage; the swimsuits were placed too high for them to reach. Their mother, however, was not so encumbered and told them that those were the ones they'd have to choose from. Despite Quinn's desire for a two piece swimsuit, Helen overruled her and told her that she was going to have to chose a one-piece. Despite Helen's decision, Quinn fell in love with a couple of one-pieces in bright day-glow and neon colors. Daria was less impressed with them. To her, swimsuits in those colors were classic bimbo-wear and she was _**not**_ a bimbo. Daria told herself it would be a cold day in Hell before she wore something that loud and vulgar. Her eye caught a one-piece with a more subdued blue-and-silver pattern featuring a stylized eagle. Daria tried it on and to her dismay found that the swimsuit was a little too big. She'd probably grow into it in a couple of years, but that style would probably gone by then. She settled for a plain plum-colored swimsuit.

-Meanwhile, Quinn had been chatting with a couple of Midland girls. Everything seemed to be going well for her until she shared that she was from Highland. There was a moment of silence, and then the second girl said "You're from WHERE?!"

"Highland," said Quinn.

"Eyeew, gross!" said the first girl.

"Highland's for losers, retards, and trailer trash," said the second girl.

"But_," said Quinn.

"Forget it, we don't want to talk to you," said the first girl. They stood up and walked away in disgust at having talked to anyone from Highland.

Daria came out of the changing room just in time to hear the girls tear into her sister for coming from Highland. She scowled at their backs and hoped that the snobettes from Midland would get sunburned all summer. She put her arm ova Quinn's shoulder. Despite the continuing hard feelings and quarreling with Quinn, she was her sister.

Helen came back from a brief side-trip to a display of womens' blouses and saw Daria with her arm around her younger sister's shoulder.

"What just happened?" asked Helen.

"A couple of girls just made fun of Quinn for coming from Highland," said Daria.

"I hate Midland," Quinn muttered. "I hate Highland, I hate Texas, and I want to leave." _I want to go somewhere else,_ she thought. _Someplace where I'm cool and nobody makes fun of me_.


	18. Chapter 18

Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years. Swim Lessons

Daria is the creation of Glenn Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. Harry Potter is the creation of JK Rowling and is the property of JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. I own neither and neither expect nor deserve financial compensation for this story. I am writing for my own amusement and ego gratification.

Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years* Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years

Daria Ravenclaw: Swim Lessons

It was early June. The children were bored and restless behind their desks, even the better-behaved ones. It seemed like forever until the school bell rang in the later afternoon, but it finally did ring. The last day of class was finally over. No more school until fall, although Daria wondered how the blazing-hot middle of August counted as being in the fall.

The last school bell wasn't entirely a "get out of jail free" card for Daria and her friends. Daria and Quinn had after-school day care, as did Jessie, Dale and Linda. As usual, the day care worker minding the on-campus facility tried to get most of the girls interested in a group activity. The worker had some success with the younger children, but most of the sixth-graders, a plurality of fifth-graders, and girls like Daria and Jessie sat it out: Jessie with a sketch pad, Daria with a book. Later that afternoon, Jessie's mom picked them up and took them home.

Swimming lessons started the next week. The YMCA was about three quarters of a mile further away from Whirlwind Drive than James Ferguson Elementary School—just a little too far for primary schoolers to walk. But it did have a swimming pool and swimming instructors.

Helen marched her daughters up to the front desk and started filling out forms. By luck, Helen was able to meet the woman who teaching her older daughters how to swim, an attractive and enthusiastic girl named Ondine Dryden. Ondine told them that she'd gone to Texas Tech and had been certified as a PE teacher. After Helen handed over her signed waver as well as the form that the Rowes had filled out earlier, Daria, Quinn, and Stacy passed through the door and into the locker room. As usual, the locker room was designed for grownups: two tiers of lockers with only the lower ones being usable for little kids.

Daria felt a little self-conscious as she stepped out of the locker room a couple of minutes later wearing her swim-suit. It wasn't that she was trying to show off for anybody, it was that she wasn't used to being this exposed. Quinn, however, looked quite at ease, although Stacy also looked nervous. Some of the other swim class students were already standing at the side of the pool or seated on a wooden bench. Daria, Quinn, and Stacy wouldn't be the only students in the swim class. To her relief, this class would be all-girl. Daria recognized several of the other new swimmers from ballet class, as well as a couple from school.

Daria had worried that that the first part of her swimming class would be to be thrown into the water without a life-jacket, then be told to start paddling to the far end of the swimming pool. To her relief, it wasn't like that. Instead, Miss Ondine, as she chose to call herself, asked her pupils to enter the water using the concrete steps at one end of the pool. Nor did Miss Ondine ask her pupils to start by paddling; instead, her first lesson was to help them learn to float and grow comfortable with being in the water.

Daria's second lesson involved learning how to kick. She and her classmates started out by hugging the side of the pool and then practiced the proper way to kick by keeping their legs straight, after which they moved on to kickboards.

Learning how to use kickboards wasn't all that difficult, at least not for Daria. It was a little like dancing had been, rhythmically kicking her legs so she could make herself and the kickboard go in a straight line. It was a little tricky at first, but with enough practice, she got the hang of it, as did Quinn, Stacy, and the other girls. By the end of the second week, Daria, Quinn, Stacy and the other beginning swimmers had mastered the kick board and were beginning to learn how to do the Australian Crawl.

There was one drawback to swimming pools: the water stung their eyes. Both Daria and Quinn complained and complained about the water in the swimming pool and begged their mother to get them swim goggles. Helen gave in and bought the girls swim goggles. They weren't the same type of goggles that skin divers wore; they were tiny, clear plastic panes with rubbery edges that kept the girls' eyes from being flooded with pool water. Daria discovered that even with the swim goggles, she didn't see the bottom of the pool very well, but then she could see just well enough to see the dark tiles marking out the lanes for lap swimmers as well as the edges of the pool, which was just good enough for swim lessons.

Daria's and Quinn's swim classes broke for the Fourth of July. Jake and Helen took all three of their daughters to see the parade. Highland High School's marching band was there, as were the veterans of the VFW, many from Vietnam and Korean wars, as well as from World War II. The cowboys and cowgirls of Highland's Western Heritage Club were also there; The Heritage Club not only had cowboys and cowgirls on horseback, but also a replica covered wagon and a replica stage coach. It was fun to watch, and Daria enjoyed taking side glances at Ronnie; Ronnie had been too young to take to earlier parades. Ronnie didn't get what a lot of the flags and horses and wagons meant yet, but she looked like she was having a good time.

A few days later several of the matriarchs of Highland's wizarding community got together to socialize, gossip, and occasionally attempt to head off squabbles or quarrels. It wasn't a formal discussion, any more than they were formally matriarchs. But they were older, and they tended to be grandmothers, great aunts, and respected older cousins of younger wizards and witches who either grew up around Highland or still thought of Johnson County and the surrounding area as being home, no matter how far away they'd moved to.

A no-maj observer would have thought that their much of their conversations were very much like those of non-magical people talking about friends and relatives. There were differences, of course, particularly concerning magic and education. A couple of quarreling adults had hexed each other, and the Marshals from MACUSA had had to come out a couple of times to help cover up some young children's accidental magic. A boy and a girl would be going off to school. Like most of the young wizards and witches around Highland, both of them were Latinos, and both of them would be heading down to Campeche to study at the The Instituto para el Estudio de las Artes y Ciencias Ocultas. Josephina worried that Ramon would have difficulty with his studies: her daughter's and son-in-law's house was primarily English-speaking, and the boy spoke Spanish poorly.

There had been rumors that the Instituto might finally open a branch school across the state line in the Anahuac Mountains. A wealthy donor had approached school officials and offered a large sum of money to assist school officials in starting new construction and help pay for new faculty. But while the younger children might benefit from this development, the new school had yet to open. The older ones would either have to go off to Ilvermorny or hope that their Spanish improved enough so that they'd be able to keep up with their classes at the Instituto' main campus down in Campeche.

Conversation eventually touched on topics that had nothing to do with family, or at least touching on the magical families that did live near Highland. Irene and some of the other older witches continued to speculate why that English wizard and his companion came to town back in April. Nobody had any solid proof, but Marta and Juana thought that he might be looking up a descendant, most likely one of Highland's Anglos.

The older women speculated about which of Highland's Anglo-American population might be wizards and witches. Jake and Helen Morgendorffer's Daria was a witch, although opinion was divided as to whether Helen Morgendorffer's other two daughters were witches or not. Irene had heard from Commissioner Thorngrove himself that Daria had attracted official notice; she'd been classified as magical and would probably get invited to attend one of the wizarding schools. Sometime before then, someone was going to have to approach their parents and welcome the daughter into the community.

None of the matriarchs looked forward to that chore. Talking to Jake and Helen Morgendorffer and informing them that their daughter was a witch was likely to prove tricky. True, the Sanchezes had already provided some under-the-table help to the older daughter after she'd injured her knee, but that was hardly the same thing as convincing a pair of adult Habaneros that magic really did exist. The women decided that for now, they'd take a hands-off approach; they'd keep an eye on the girls, but they wouldn't talk to Helen or her husband about their daughter unless one or both of them asked for assistance.

Back at the YMCA, swimming classes resumed after the Fourth of July holiday break. By the end of the fifth week, Daria had made an unsettling discovery; swimming could be boring. It wasn't so much the movements she made as she swam back and forth from one end of the pool to the other; it was that the bottom of the pool was so darn boring. Back and forth and back and forth she went, trying to learn to co-ordinate her arm and her leg movements when she took her breaths with her arm movements, learning the moves of the breast stroke, but seeing the same, dull stupid white cement at the bottom of the pool. Even the lines for the race-swimmers was beginning to bore her. Same old, same old, as she'd heard teenagers describe it.

Her mom and her dad didn't see so much of Mr. and Mrs. Markham as they had in previous years. Both Mr. and Mrs. Markham were taking what they called a "brainstorming" class to change jobs and make more money. The class kept them busy a couple of nights a week. It did have an upside; Jessie and Dale were often at the Morgendorffers those evenings and they could play together.

Daria had a funny thought occur to her while she swam laps. The bottom of the pool wasn't actually cement; it was actually an egg shell, an egg shell that if it cracked would allow her to see into a whole new world. She decided to act on her idea. She dove down to see if the bottom of the swimming pool had turned into an egg-shell (it hadn't), then, a little disappointed, resumed swimming her lap.

Linda frowned at her after she got through swimming her set. "Gee, Daria, why did you stop in the middle of your lap and dive to the bottom of the pool instead of just doing the lap like you were supposed to?"

Daria frowned. Linda's behavior was getting on her nerves. What was up with her? Why should Linda care about how Daria did her laps, or even how Daria was swimming, unless she was drowning or something? Linda used not to care that much about what other people thought of her, but she'd swung over in the other direction since Cindy Wise moved away.

Daria saw no point in telling Linda that it seemed that the bottom of the swimming pool had turned into an eggshell for a moment and that she'd want to be able to see what was on the other side if it cracked open. She looked at Linda and simply said "Because I wanted to."

Daria put aside her thought about the bottom of the swimming pool the next day, but it came back with a vengeance the day after. She was swimming her laps, feeling a little bored, looked down, and thought she was swimming across a long, dark lake. There were three tall stands sticking out of the lake; the stands were crowded with people. They looked like larger, wooden versions of the old metal oil-drilling rig that stood at the big gas station and truck stop out where Interstate 20 met the east end of Highland. For a moment she thought the lake was in Scotland, which didn't make any sense to her. She felt a momentary chill; the lake water was cold. She sped up, thinking that if she got past the patch of cold water, she'd be back in the much warmer water of the community center's swimming pool. She warmed up, but she continued to feel the chill.

A few days later Belinda Rowe was talking with Charlene Dreiser. Charlene's daughter Gertrude had invited Belinda's daughter Stacy to accompany them to Deutsche Fest.

"I'd never heard of Deutsche Fest," said Mrs. Rowe.

"It's a yearly event put on by the Germans over at Webb Air Force Base," said Mrs. Dreiser.

"There are Germans over at the air base?" said Mrs. Rowe, puzzled. "What are they doing there?"

"The West Germans rent it and use it to train their pilots," said Mrs. Dreiser.

"But why?" asked Mrs. Rowe. "Aren't there enough places in West Germany where they could train them in Germany?"

"Well, west Texas does have wide open spaces, so training them out here does make sense," said Mrs. Dreiser. "They can fly low, go boom, and break the sound barrier without anyone getting upset."

"But Deutsche Fest?" asked Belinda.

"I know it sounds strange, but they do try to be good guests. But every summer, usually a weekend following the Fourth of July, they throw a small festival called Deutsche Fest."

"How often do they have this Deutsche Fest?" asked Mrs. Rowe.

"It's a yearly thing," said Mrs. Dreiser. "I take Gertrude to Deutsche Fest every year; she enjoys it. I think Stacy would enjoy it, too."

"OK," said Mrs. Rowe, "she can go."

And so she went. Stacy enjoyed Deutsche Fest. True, there were rides, game booths, and other attractions she'd seen at a couple of the regional fairs, but the Germans at the base also also put on shows with singing, dancing, clowns, and puppet shows for the very young. Stacy was afraid that aside from the Dreisers, she wouldn't know anybody else that she knew. She soon learned that she was wrong; Mr. and Mrs. Morgendorffer had not only brought Daria and Quinn, but also their little sister Ronnie, too. Helen had brought a stroller, but It almost seemed superfluous; Ronnie tried to get on her feet whenever she could. If Quinn's other sister Daria wore her usual "we are mildly bored" or her "we are mildly amused" expressions, Ronnie made up for it by looking and listening to everything with unabashed delight.

The Germans had a live band as well as recorded music. Stacy overheard another grown-up tell their kid that the Germans' band played Oom-Pah music and giggled. The band not only played for the dancers who performed on-stage, but anyone who wanted to dance below it. Stacy thought the only takers would either be other Germans from the air base or people who remembered their German heritage. She was surprised to see a large number of older Mexican-Americans turn out as well. Years later she later learned that a lot of border music had been influenced by German musicians and German popular music after the American Civil War, and that Mexican-Americans continued to compose and dance to polkas and waltzes. Stacy returned home that evening happy and thinking that sometimes, if not very often, Highland wasn't as bad as she thought.

Author's notes: Daria Ravenclaw is a story set in an alternate universe. "Habanero" and "Habanera" are slang terms used by wizards and witches living near the US-Mexican border for non-magical humans. Think of it as another way of saying "Muggle."

During the Cold War, members of the West German Air Force trained at Holloman Air Force Base, a US facility located near Alamogordo, New Mexico, USA. In my alternate-universe story, West German pilots also trained at a US air field near fictional Highland, Texas.


	19. Chapter 19

DAR Highland Years Summer 1987 Vacation Planning

Daria is the creation of Glenn Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. Harry Potter is the creation of JK Rowling and is the property of JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. I own neither and neither expect nor deserve financial compensation for this story. I am writing for my own amusement and ego gratification.

Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years* Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years

A week or so later, Quinn was sitting at the breakfast table and asked "Dad, why can't we go on a vacation this year? I want to go on a trip."

Daria said nothing. She already knew why they wouldn't. She'd known that she and Quinn were almost old enough for a car trip when their Mom had Veronica, and that they'd have to wait until Ronnie was four. It was one of the drawbacks of having a little little sister, but Ronnie made up for it, at least most of the time.

"Girls," said Jake. "You're still a little young for a car trip and your mother and I are saving up our vacation days so we can go on a longer trip maybe next year."

"We are not!" said Quinn. "I'm six years old and Daria's eight. Dale goes on trips all the time!"

"Dale is six years old and is the youngest girl in their family," said Jake. "Your little sister isn't ready yet. We'll go, and we'll go together when your sister's old enough, OK?"

"No!" said Quinn with a scowl. "I want to go now."

"Daria, tell Dad to take us on a trip!"

"No," said Daria, "this isn't a winning strategy." She'd picked up the idea from a discussion about child-raising she'd overheard one evening when she'd been with Gail and her family and Gail's little cousin had to go to the Emergency Room. She'd spent what seemed forever sitting in the waiting room listening to a TV talk show psychologist go on and on about successful strategies for manipulating difficult children and wishing that someone, anyone would _**please**_ change the channel. At the time she'd thought that the TV show psychologist was a pompous idiot, but she'd since come around to thinking that a couple of the guy's ideas might be useful for manipulating grown-ups and some of her classmates.

"Daria!" yelled Quinn.

The following day, Jake was eating a sack lunch in the break room at work.

"So Jake, where are you planning to go on vacation this year?" asked Bob Stout, one of the senior executives at the company.

"I think I'm going to pass again," said Jake. "Helen and I are thinking of staying in town this year and let the vacation days roll over. We ought to have enough extra vacation days saved up for a really long trip."

"Jake, I hate to remind you, but your extra vacation days roll over only so far," said Bob. "You get a maximum of five days on top of the standard ten-day package, and if you don't use them within three years, you lose them."

"Oh," said Jake. _**Damn,**_ he thought, silently clenching and unclenching his fist under the break room table and out of sight. He'd thought that maybe he and Helen could let enough days roll over that they could drive out to Disneyland or someplace. He and Helen had traveled a lot during their hippie days, but they'd never traveled to southern California.

"Well, I'll think of something," said Jake.

He thought about it on the way home. His older daughters were definitely ready for a vacation. Both of them were restless. Both of them were sick and tired of being stuck in Highland all the time, and both of them wanted a change of scenery, at least for a little while. Quinn was the most vocal about what she described as being cooped up in Highland all summer, but Daria was also restless and irritable, even if she wasn't show it as much as her younger sister.

And in truth, Jake wouldn't mind getting out of town for at least a weekend. He really wanted to take his whole family on a trip, but Ronnie was only two and Helen was trying to get ahead in her job. Jake worried that he and Helen would find a date, make reservations, and then see their plans blown to bits by one of Helen's bosses. He could take the older girls someplace for a weekend trip, but what about Ronnie? His youngest daughter needed someone to take care of her while he and his older girls were out of town.

He was still trying to find a solution which would allow him to take the older girls on a short trip while making sure that Ronnie had someone to look after her while Helen was at work when he drove to Temple for his Tuesday night Class. He was so distracted that he brought it up with Eli when they took a break half-way through the class. Jake silently mouthed a swear-word.

Eli gave him solid, practical advice. "If your wife can't leave town," he said, "maybe you should consider taking your older girls someplace in-state."

"But that still leaves my wife Helen in-town with our youngest daughter Veronica, she works, and her office doesn't provide on-site child-care," said Jake.

"Well, get a nanny," said Eli.

"Nannies are really out of our price range," said Jake. "Helen and I tried to price one when we were thinking about a trip East before Veronica was born and the fees the nannies asked for blew a hole in our budget the size of a battleship."

"Didn't you say that you used baby-sitters when you went to that conference in Dallas earlier this year?" asked Eli.

"Yes," said Jake.

"Well, maybe you could try to price their services for a few days instead of for weeks or for months," said Eli. "Try and price a nanny's services for a long weekend."

"I could do that," said Jake, half-believingly. Eli's nanny idea would probably blow up in the end, but he could at least try to see if it was doable. He really wanted to do the best by his girls, and he didn't want to leave them stuck in Highland for the entire summer.

One of the guys in his study group gave him some names, some telephone numbers, and some recommendations, and Jake started calling around. Before he dialed them, though, he found the Sanchezes' phone number. They'd done a good job at sitting the girls when he and Helen went to Dallas. He called them and learned that they had gotten jobs and were no longer available; but they could give names of other people to help mind Veronica.

Jake went back to the list he'd gotten from Temple and began to sound out potential nannies about their rates. To Jake's relief he discovered that he and Helen could afford one. He smiled to himself; his mini-vacation idea had shifted from being just a day dream to something he could actually carry off, with or without Helen.

He then began to draw up spreadsheets with likely expenses for a mini-vacation. He drew up one for just himself and his two older daughters, another for himself, Helen, Ronnie, Quinn, and Daria, and another one for himself, his two older daughters, and a friend of either Quinn's or Daria's. With gas, hotel rooms, and meals, as well as the expense of the nanny, his model came in well under one thousand dollars.

Now that he had a budget, Jake began to think of nearby destinations that his daughters might enjoy. At first he thought of taking the girls either to San Antonio or to Dallas—Fort Worth. The park fees for Sea World or Six Flags wouldn't be cheap. And if something bad happened at the park, he'd be stuck in a large, unfamiliar city with at least two, or possibly three little girls. Maybe he could take them somewhere else.

A solution came a couple of mornings later while he was in Lubbock on business; he was reading a national tabloid the following morning and saw that the travel section had a long article on Carlsbad Caverns. Carlsbad was across the state line, but was about as far away as Six Flags. The Caverns were supposed to be cool, even in the late afternoon. The caverns did have bats, though, a thought that made Jake shudder. Maybe, though, if he and the girls went in no later than early afternoon, they'd be out and back in the car when the bats started moving for their evening meal.

So if he took the girls, where would they stay? He brought his highway map in from the truck and spread it out on the breakfast room table. He looked at it and frowned. There were a couple of routes he could take to get to the Caverns, one of them ran through Midland and the other ran through Lamesa and Hobbs. He wasn't so sure about stopping in Midland; Midland was close in and the girls would likely be taking field trips there and there really wasn't much there in either Lamesa or Hobbs.

An alternative to Carlsbad came up Friday afternoon when some of the guys got together at one Highland's watering holes.

"I was thinking of taking my two oldest daughters on a mini-vacation," he said. "I was thinking about Carlsbad Caverns."

"I don't know, Jake," said Sol. I wouldn't try Carlsbad; it's an awful long drive, at least with a car full of small kids. We aren't all that far from Sonora."

"Sonora?" asked Jake. "Isn't that south of Arizona? That's even further away from Highland than Carlsbad. And why would I want to go to Sonora instead of Carlsbad?"

"No, you're thinking of the Mexican state of Sonora; I'm talking about the town of Sonora. It's east of Ozona on I-10," said Jonathan. "There's some large caverns just west of town. They might not be as spectacular as Carlsbad or Mammoth Caves, but they ought to have enough to interest your daughters, and it's less than 200 miles away."

"What are they called again?" asked Jake.

"The Caverns of Sonora," Jonathan repeated.

"I'll check that out," said Jake. He hadn't heard of the Caverns of Sonora before, but if they were closer in than Carlsbad, maybe they'd be a more doable destination than Carlsbad.

He brought up his idea that evening with his wife.

"You know, I'd like to take all of us on a vacation," said Jake. "Both Daria and Quinn are restless, and we could all use a break."

"Jake, I can't afford to be away from the office just now. The firm's got a court case that's likely to tie me up until mid-August," said Helen.

"I know," said Jake. "But I could take Daria and Quinn on a mini-vacation. They've been getting restless and a change of scenery might calm them down a bit."

"And who would look after Ronnie?" asked Helen. "I can place Ronnie in day care during the week, but Saturday's different."

"I was thinking that maybe we could hire a nanny," said Jake. "I've priced several of them."

"You have, Jakey?" said Helen.

"I've already gotten some leads from the guys at class," said Jake, "and I can talk to the Sanchezes again. They're too busy to sit Ronnie themselves now, but they might know somebody who's available."

"Here, let me show you," said Jake, handing Helen a paper showing some of the quotes he'd gotten.

"Do you have any destinations in mind?" said Helen, glancing over the names and rates..

"I'm sure that Quinn would love to go to Six Flags or Seaworld, although I think even Daria would go stir-crazy cooped up in a car for seven hours."

"The admission charges and what they'd charge for rides wouldn't be cheap," said Helen.

"There's that, but I was thinking of going someplace closer in, someplace inexpensive and educational," said Jake.

"What do you have in mind?" said Helen.

"I'd thought of taking the girls to Carlsbad Caverns, but that's a long drive, about as far as it is to Fort Worth, and there's not much in between here and there. The guys from Temple told me that there are some caverns down by Sonora that supposed to be good. I thought that maybe I could drive the girls to San Angelo Friday evening, then take them to see the old cavalry fort there Saturday morning, then drive down to Sonora to see the caverns that afternoon, spend the night in Sonora, then drive back on Sunday."

Helen thought about it. "That sounds good," she said. "Do you have figures, Jakey?"

"I do," her husband replied. He looked pleased with himself, Helen noted. He handed her a spread-sheet he'd drawn up on the computer.

Helen looked over Jake's spread-sheet. To her bemusement, this one was thoughtful and realistic. He'd calculated the expenses for petrol, meals, double rooms at hotels for two nights, and the charges for admission both to Fort Concho and the Caverns of Sonora, and even included a budget for souvenirs. He then factored in the charges for nannies for Friday evening and all day Saturday, and brought in the total well under one thousand dollars.

"It looks like something I can do with you, but if I can't go, maybe Daria could invite one of her friends to go in my place," said Helen.

Jake and Helen brought up Jake's proposal on Sunday morning at the breakfast table. Both Daria and Quinn had similar reactions: guarded enthusiasm. If it wasn't Six Flags or Sea World, it was a trip out of town. Daria could think of more interesting places to go to than an old cavalry fort, but the caverns might be interesting. Quinn was less enthusiastic, but their Dad's weekend trip idea meant that they'd at least go _somewhere_ this summer.

Daria began to call her friends to see who might want to go on their trip. She started with Cindy Markham, but learned from the Markham's house sitter that the Markhams had gone on their own summer vacation and wouldn't be back until mid-August.

Daria then called Linda Hurd. Despite the increased tension between them, Daria still considered Linda to be one of her friends. Linda accepted.

Jake had initially scheduled their departure for the following weekend. On Wednesday, though, he had to tell his daughters that he'd have to push back their departure one weekend. There was an all-hands-on-deck company meeting and he couldn't get out of it.

Daria called Linda to tell her the bad news. Linda did not take it well. It wasn't that she couldn't deal with a delay, but that her parents had made their own plans that conflicted with Daria's Dad's new departure date.

"You led me on about this trip, you set me up, and then you changed it!" said Linda.

"Linda, I didn't. My Dad made the plans and my Dad changed them, not me! Why are you blaming me?" Daria replied.

"Because you were the one who invited me!" said Linda. "You lied!"

"I didn't lie!" Daria said angrily. "I told what I thought was the truth!"

"Well, it isn't now!" said Linda, who angrily hung up the phone.

Daria broke the news about Linda at dinner. Helen frowned. Linda had been one of Daria's oldest friends. What had gotten into her?

Jake said a little too loudly that that really stinked. Helen was somewhat more low-key. "I'm sorry, Sweetie," she said. "That must have hurt."


	20. Chapter 20

Daria Ravenclaw The Highland Years 1987 Fort Concho

Daria is the creation of Glenn Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. Harry Potter is the creation of JK Rowling and is the property of JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. I own neither and neither expect nor deserve financial compensation for this story. I am writing for my own amusement and ego gratification.

Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years* Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years

Conversation turned to other things. Quinn wanted to go to the pool at the Y on Saturday morning, and Jake said that he could take her there. Ronnie saw something funny at daycare. Delicately, or perhaps not so delicately, Helen brought up Linda's cancellation again. "Daria, you did ask one of your friends and she changed her mind," she said. "This time I think Quinn can ask one of her friends."

"Whatever," said Daria. She was still bummed out by Linda's reaction.

Quinn called Stacy Rowe and got an instant reply. Stacy was available, and was more than willing to come along. Daria rolled her eyes and silently told herself to buckle up and prepare for a weekend of non-stop babble.

The following week, Jake and the older girls got ready for their trip. Jake made reservations for the motels in San Angelo and Sonora. At Helen's nudging, he also took his crew-cab truck for an inspection to make sure everything was in order for a long distance trip: tires, radiator, radiator hoses, oil, everything checked out. Daria went to the library and read what little she could about Fort Concho and the Caverns of Sonora. Quinn started looking through her dresser and closet for cute outfits to wear.

Helen interviewed the nanny. The nanny was Myra Glickman, a local girl recommended by a couple of Jake's friends at Temple. Helen invited Myra over beforehand for an interview. Helen was relieved to learn that Myra was an intelligent, responsible girl. They agreed on her schedule: Helen would arrange to come home earlier on Friday and Myra would help her mind Ronnie that first evening, then Myra would come by early Saturday morning so Helen could put in a half-day at the office and return from Midland in the early afternoon. Helen would mind Ronnie for the rest of Saturday, then hold the fort on Whirlwind Drive on Sunday with Ronnie until Jake and the girls returned from Sonora.

There was little else for Daria to do that week. She did accept an invitation to go to the movies with Gail on Wednesday, but had to beg off an invitation from Farrah to accompany her to her cousin's ranch the following weekend. Farrah was entirely supportive of Daria's trip to Fort Concho and asked her to take pictures that they could show to her grandfather. But by Friday afternoon, she and Quinn were packed and ready to go.

There was one other necessary preparation: telling Ronnie. All three of the older Morgendorffers took turns at explaining that Dad and the older sisters would be going away for a couple of nights, but that they'd be back Sunday afternoon. Ronnie was a little worried that they'd be going away forever, but Daria solemnly promised that she'd be back Sunday afternoon.

Jake came home around 5:00 PM on Friday afternoon. Their first stop would be at the Rowes' house. Stacy lived only a few blocks away. Mrs. Rowe greeted them at the door.

"I'd like to thank you for offering to take Stacy on this trip," said Mrs. Rowe. "She'd been dying to go somewhere all summer."

Stacy tearfully said goodbye to her Mom and climbed into the back seat. Just as Daria thought it would, Stacy began her part in the non-stop chatter-thon.

"This is going to so cool," said Stacy. "Like my Mom and Dad said that we'd go to Mammoth Cave but we never went."

"Like Daria, do you know anything about these caves?"

"Just what I read at the library," said Daria.

"You must know a lot, then," Stacy said appreciatively.

"I don't know about that," said Daria. "There's probably a lot out there I don't know." The topic changed to clothes and gossip about about Stacy's and Quinn's classmates and Daria disengaged. Daria wondered how long Quinn and Stacy could keep it up.

Daria sat in the front seat with Jake and smiled as the truck rolled past the city limits sign. She was finally getting out of town. Even with that shopping trip to Midland back in May, she'd been afraid that she'd be stuck in Highland for life. Jake turned on the radio, surfing past a country and western station, a rock and roll station, a nasal-voiced radio evangelist decrying liberalism and how it would lead to the ruin of America, and finally settling on a sports station. Daria listened in silence; she figured that Quinn's and Stacy's chatter from the back seat made up for more than her lack of dialogue. Jake turned on the radio and they listened to seventies and eighties rock and roll.

Jake didn't drive all that far the first evening—just to San Angelo. This being west Texas and traffic being light, it took them less than two hours on US highway 87 to reach San Angelo. He and the girls stopped at motel on the outskirts of town, then drove to a restaurant listed in the AAA guidebook. Daria hoped that they'd go to a Mexican restaurant, but Stacy said that she couldn't handle the peppers and spicy dishes so common to border cooking. Instead, they went to a western-themed restaurant that advertised thick steaks and big potatoes, but featured chicken, salads and mixed vegetables for people with daintier appetites.

Jake and Stacy made phone calls after dinner. Jake called Helen to reassure her and Ronnie that they were all right and that they were really coming back on Sunday. Stacy called her folks and assured them that she was OK and that Mr. Morgendorffer had safely driven them to San Angelo.

Daria did not have high expectations for this trip. She hoped that the caverns of Sonora would be interesting, but feared that she'd be disappointed; after all, even at school people talked about Carlsbad Caverns, but few people talked about the Caverns of Sonora. Daria had done a little reading about San Angelo beforehand. San Angelo wasn't like Dallas or San Antonio, places she'd really like to visit if she had to stay in Texas for the summer. San Angelo sounded a lot like Highland-except nicer. If San Angelo had anything like art or history museums, they probably showed painting by some white artist or other depicting cowboys, oil wells, or what they thought was Indian life. Still, it was a weekend away from Highland, and at worst, she'd have a break from the same old same old.

"This is going to so cool," said Stacy. "Like my Mom and Dad said that we'd go to Mammoth Cave but we never went."

"Are there like bats in those caves or something?" she asked.

"Possibly," said Daria. "I don't think they're rabid."

"Eep!" said Stacy.

"At least not most of them," said Daria.

Daria had learned long ago how to tune out Quinn when Quinn wanted to stay up late and talk. She had less experience with Stacy, but Quinn had had a couple of sleepovers with a couple of her other friends and Daria discovered that it was at least theoretically possible to drift off to sleep despite the chatter. To her relief, she found she was able to drift off to sleep while Quinn and Stacy continued to talk.

Morning seemed to come earlier than usual. "Girls," said Jake, knocking on the door. "Time to wake up!"

Daria woke up, put on her eyeglasses, and looked at the bedside alarm clock in dismay. It was 6:00 AM. Dad usually didn't usually make such a fuss about having everybody out of bed and dressed so early in the morning. Her Mom usually did. She wondered why Dad made such a fuss about everybody getting dressed and out of their rooms by 8:30. Daria was not a morning person. Despite her age, her idea of a dream vacation was someplace that would let her sleep to 9:00 or 10:00.

Her Dad explained the reasons for his madness during breakfast. "Girls," said Jake, "I thought that we'd be better off seeing Fort Concho in the morning before it gets really hot. We'll be done by noon or so, then drive to the Caverns and be cool in the afternoon.

Jake and the girls loaded up the car and drove to Fort Concho after breakfast and check-out. The museum parking lot was surprisingly full; also, there were a fair number of horse trailers parked over to the side. Daria wondered if something special was going on at Fort Concho. After all, even at school, the young ranch kids left their horses at home.

The area around the entry was surprisingly crowded, and even from the parking lot Jake could see that parts of the fort had been roped off. He wondered why the fort was so crowded and what was going on.

He soon found out. Jake, Daria, Quinn, and Stacy were intercepted by a smiling volunteer just as they left the walkway that led to the museum from the parking lot. This one dressed like he belonged in a western: wide hat, string tie, flowered vest, and riding boots. About the only thing he lacked was a six-gun and holster.

"Sir, you and your daughters are in luck. You've arrived in time to watch the Green County Volunteer Cavalry perform old cavalry drills on the parade ground. You and your girls are in for a real treat!"

Jake followed some of the earlier arrivals over to what he presumed had been the fort's old parade ground. Most of the crowd was dressed in everyday clothing, but there were a surprising number of re-enactors on the sidelines dressed in what Daria thought of as Wild West or Old-Timey clothing.

Jake, Daria, Quinn, and Stacy made their way to the parade ground. It would have worked out fine if they were taller. The girls soon found themselves standing behind some rapt adults and teenaged boys much taller than they were. _Typical_ , thought Daria.

Jake noticed and frowned. "Excuse me," he said to an older man and a couple of young men standing in front of his girls and Stacy. "Would you mind if my girls stood in front of you? You're at least a foot and a half taller than they are and you won't have any trouble seeing the show."

The guys standing in front of Daria, Quinn, and Stacy were either members of the old school, had good manners, or just didn't want to be embarrassed, and let Daria, Stacy, and Quinn stand in front of them.

The Green County Volunteer Cavalry Troop was dressed in the traditional blue uniforms with the yellow bandanas and yellow-striped trousers Daria remembered seeing in Cowboy movies. They began their show with a bugler playing a tune and a rush to mount their horses, the riders set off in a gallop to the other side of the parade ground whooping and shooting replica revolvers into the air.

The Cavalry re-enactors rode down the parade ground by twos, then by fours, then lined up side by side at the far end of the parade ground. They then rode down the parade ground by twos and then peeled away in different directions. To her surprise, Daria not only recognized a couple of the bugle calls from old westerns, but from the one or two high school football games she'd been dragged to. The re-enactors then galloped down the length of the parade ground after the bugler played "Charge!", then ended their performance by trotting past the appreciative audience and then dismounting at the far end of the parade ground..

The audience was allowed to walk up to the re-enactors after the performance ended. and talk to them. The horses seemed incredibly tall, at least to a medium-sized eight year-old girl. Jake correctly guessed that the enactors' uniforms and the tack on the horses were authentic to the period, even if they were reproductions and not originals used by real cavalrymen. He also guessed that learning how to maneuver the horses and perform the drills correctly must take practice and hundreds of hours on horseback. He asked a couple of enactors just how long it took to learn to perform the drills properly and learned that he was right.

The enactors' "commander" was a Colonel Wilson, who wasn't a real colonel, but had served in the Army. Daria, Quinn, and Stacy were surprised to learn that a couple of the enactors were women, not men. As Colonel Wilson explained, the female enactors rode horses and performed the old drills just as well as the men did. Colonel Wilson also explained that the old Cavalry had been rigidly segregated, with certain regiments having Afro-American enlisted men and white officers. "We're more relaxed here," said Colonel Wilson, "There aren't that many re-enactors willing to put in the work to do this right so we have some Afro-American officers and white and black enlisted men mixed together. As you can see, it works out well for us."

Daria was curious enough to want to learn more, but she realized that she needed to go to the bathroom. She asked one of the re-enactors where the nearest facilities were, and was pointed at a smallish, anachronistic-looking structure set among some of the fort's old buildings.

Daria did her business, washed and dried her hands, then set out to rejoin Jake, Stacy, and Quinn. She exited the bathroom, started walking, then realized that she'd taken a wrong turn. She backtracked but realized that she was lost. She realized that she'd allowed herself to get distracted and had lost track of where Dad, Quinn, Stacy, and the tour guide had gone.

She saw what she thought was a large gap between the buildings and began to make her way back to what she thought was the parade ground. She saw that she'd indeed found the parade ground, but was disturbed to see that things had changed. The crowd watching the re-enactors had thinned considerably, and the people wearing street-wear had either disappeared or been replaced by people wearing old-timey clothing. Daria recognized none of them.

The Cavalry troop had changed, too. The mix of horses had changed; most of the horses she'd seen earlier were dark brown with dark manes, although some had white socks and foreheads, now there was more of a mix. The riders had changed, too. Now they looked like what "Colonel" Wilson said that 19th century cavalry looked like: white officers, Afro-American enlisted men. Daria scanned the officers' faces to see if she could spot Colonel Wilson and get him to tell her where her dad and sister had gone. She couldn't see him.

Daria was scanning the faces of the mounted enactors as well as the enactors in the audience as well as the enactors on horseback again when she heard a deep voice speak up behind her.

"Excuse me, Miss, are you lost?" it said.

Daria turned around. She found herself looking at a tall man dressed in what she thought of as Wild West cavalrymens' clothing, with a complexion as brown as coffee stain and sergeant's stripes sewn on the shoulder. The man's uniform was a bit different from what the enactors wore.

"I'm looking for my father," said Daria. "He's touring the old fort with my younger sister and my younger sister's friend Stacy."

"Young ladies shouldn't be wandering around the fort by themselves," said the sergeant disapprovingly. "I'm going to take you to the Colonel."

He guided her through an open door into an unairconditioned office.

The Colonel was bare-headed but wore a dark blue uniform with yellow epaulets on the shoulder. He had long sideburns that Daria had only seen on young working-class guys not long out of school. _A historical re-enactor, perhaps_ , Daria wondered. If so, this guy took his role seriously. There were no signs of telephones, typewriters, or a desk-top computer and monitor in his office.

"Colonel, I found this young lady wandering around near the barracks. She appears to be lost."

The Colonel looked at Daria and then paused in thought for a while. He then cracked his knuckles.

"Good morning, young lady," said the Colonel. "I am Mackenzie Randall. And you are?"

"Daria Morgendorffer," said Daria.

"And what are you doing wandering around the fort?" asked the Colonel.

"I was looking for my father," said Daria. "I got lost coming out of the restroom."

"I can't help you find your father," said the Colonel. "I don't have the time to keep track of the comings and goings of every civilian that comes to this post."

"He came here this morning. He was part of the big crowd that was watching the Green County Volunteer Cavalry," said Daria. "He's here with my sister Quinn and my sister's friend Stacy."

"I haven't noticed him," said the Colonel. "And I don't think remaining here will help you find him."

Daria rose to leave, realizing that it was time to go.

"Miss Morgendorffer, a word," said the Colonel.

"Yes, sir?" asked Daria. She surprised herself by saying "sir" to the Colonel; most adults didn't really deserve it, but this guy did.

"If you can't stay out of trouble, try to use your head to deal with it."

What could she say? "Yes, sir," she said.

"That's all," he said, and went back to his paperwork.

"Sergeant," he said.

"This way, Miss," said the Sergeant. He motioned for her to leave the office, then closed the door behind him.

Daria tagged along behind the Sergeant. She trusted him. The Sergeant knew his way around the post, and he had a knack for getting people to follow him, even stubborn people like her.

"You might try going down to that tree over there, then turn left and walk about 150 feet," said the Sergeant, pointing at a tree growing between two buildings.

Daria followed the sergeant's instructions to the letter and to her considerable relief found her Dad and a worried-looking guide.

"Daria," asked Jake, "where have you been?"

"Well, I went over by the post office, the barracks, and the Commandant's house," said Daria.

 _The Commandant's House?_ The tour guide looked at her wonderingly. The Commandant's house was closed this morning. How had the girl managed to get inside?

"Well, I found you," said Jake. "Be careful when you go wandering off. I don't want to lose you."

Re-united with Jake, and shortly afterwards with Quinn and Stacy, Daria went along to see some of the other sights around the historical park. The local art museum had exhibits at some of the buildings in the old fort. They wanted their own building, but for now they shared space with the historical society. Half-distracted by her side trip after her bathroom break, Daria didn't pay as much attention to the paintings, sculpture, and drawings on display.

They also passed the Commandant's House. Something drove Daria to run up to the window and look in; the lights were off. She tried to open the door; it was locked.

The Colonel had been there when she went there earlier. What had happened?

They stopped by the gift shop after that and Jake had allowed his daughters and Stacy to buy a couple of souvenirs. Quinn bought a couple of post cards, Stacy bought a small horse figurine, and Daria bought several postcards, including a couple that showed the photograph of the Colonel. It was getting hot as they left the gift shop and walked to Dad's truck. _Maybe Dad had a point about getting up and getting going early_ , thought Daria. It was a good thing Jake was driving; Daria left Fort Concho in something of a daze.

The drive between Fort Concho and the caverns of Sonora took about two hours. It might have taken less, but Jake and the girls stopped for lunch at a fast food restaurant, then Jake refueled his crew-cab truck at a gas station while all three girls took turns at using the restroom. Only then did they set off down Highway 277.

Daria's curiosity got the better of her again as Jake drove out of the fast food place's parking lot. She opened her sack of souvenir postcards and gazed at one showing the Colonel. She flipped the card over, read the caption on the back, and her jaw almost dropped in amazement. According to the caption the Colonel had been dead for nearly one hundred years.

-(((o-o)))—

Author's notes: Fort Concho is a former US Army frontier fort owned and operated by the city of San Angelo, Texas. It is a US National Historic Landmark and is open to the public. According to my research, the real Fort Concho supposedly has at least three ghosts haunting it.

The US, like some other countries, does have historical re-enactors who voluntarily don period costume and re-enact historical drills and maneuvers. To the best of my knowledge, Green County, Texas does not have a US Cavalry re-enactor group called the Green County Volunteer Cavalry Troop.

The US Army did not admit Afro Americans to its ranks until the Civil War, which lasted from 1861 to 1865. After the Civil War, the US Army recruited two regiments of infantry and two regiments of cavalry for Afro-American volunteers. These units were rigidly segregated, with Afro American soldiers serving in the enlisted ranks and officers of European descent serving as officers. These units served with valor and distinction, usually being posted to the frontiers.

The US Army was not desegregated until after the Second World War.


	21. Chapter 21

DAR Highland Years Caverns of Sonora

Daria is the creation of Glenn Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. Harry Potter is the creation of JK Rowling and is the property of JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. I own neither and neither expect nor deserve financial compensation for this story. I am writing for my own amusement and ego gratification.

T rated for language.

Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years* Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years

When they reached Sonora, they didn't go directly to their motel; instead Jake drove to the caverns. The caverns weren't actually in the town of Sonora, but west of it. To get to the Caverns, they had to drive west of town on Interstate 10 for 14 miles. Somebody had put up a billboard saying that they only had 1178 miles to go before they reached Los Angeles; Daria rolled her eyes while both Quinn and Stacy moaned with disappointment. They got off I-10 shortly afterwards and pulled into the parking lot next to the caverns' entrance. It was hotter than it had been when they'd left Fort Concho, and the sun beating down on the hot asphalt made it even hotter.

Jake pulled out his credit card to pay for the tour with his credit card, and the cashier rang it up. She then got into a short discussion with one of the men who would be working as a guide to take them through the caverns. He informed Jake that since he was bringing three young children along with him, he might want to take the shorter tour through the cavern, and not the full-length one, which ran for about two and a half miles.

The guide then told Jake that they wouldn't have the Caverns to themselves. His tour group needed to fill out a little more before he and the girls could go in. Moreover, another group had booked the caverns that morning for an especially long tour; Jake's group and the other group might run into each other as the other group was coming back.

Jake and the girls spent time looking at an exhibit about the caverns posted near the entrance while waiting for their own tour group to fill out, which it did. This afternoon's tour group had several kids near the girls' age, along with their parents or grandparents, a couple of older teenagers, and also a couple of guys and girls who might be college age or older. After a brief interview to learn if Jake or the others had any special medical conditions or were claustrophobic, the guide opened the entry doors. If the entrance was dark and a little scary, it made up for it by being much, much cooler than it was outdoors.

There was a sort of patio below the short flight of steps leading from the entrance. The tour group formed up there and faced the tour guide as he began to explain the history of the caverns.

"These caverns were formed between one and a half to two million years ago back when this formation was flooded. Acidic water from below dissolved the calcium-laden limestone, creating these caverns, then the water drained away. The water in this formation mixed with acidic gasses seeping up from below to dissolve the calcium-laden limestone, creating these caverns, then the water drained away."

 _So these caverns were old_ , thought Daria. They'd outlasted the Ice Ages, the Indians, and the beasts that had roamed the area before the triple threat of climate change, retreating glaciers, and overhunting carried them off. Daria learned that she'd only see a portion of the caverns; while about seven miles of the caverns had been explored, they'd only tour part of the two and a half miles that were open to the public.

She didn't really know what to expect from these caverns and realized that her assumptions were wrong. These weren't the sort of caverns she imagined from televisions or movies with bare rock walls. These had stalactites and stalagmites, mineral deposits and other features she'd never seen before.

Some of the formations were wet and glistening in the caverns' humid air. Despite the fact that Soonora looked to be as dry or dryer than Highland, it looked like there was enough moisture to seep through the bedrock and into the caverns. Daria watched as a water droplet formed at the end of a stalactite, then dropped and splashed onto the top of the stalagmite below it. It was amazing that such an incredibly slow drip-drip-drip, a dripping that would last days, years, decades, centuries, leaving growing stalactites and stalacmites behind as dissolved minerals bound to the rock as the water flowed away.

Their tour group continued down the path and climbed down more stairs, passing an underground pool, a pool that had never seen daylight, or even light until the first spelunkers made their way through the caverns to see how far they could go. Stacy had a crazy thought: what would it be like to go swimming in the water. She let it pass; she'd get into trouble if she tried it.

Their group was well past the entrance now, so deep into the caves that there wasn't a hint of the reflected sunlight that bounced off the limestone walls of the entrance hundreds of feet away.

"And if you look over here, you can see these crystals," said the tour guide.

"Man, those are crazy-looking crystals," said an older boy who'd come along. Daria thought that the boy must be a teenager or something. _One of those guys who had to fill up the silence with noise to show how important he is_ , she thought disapprovingly.

"They look like glazed cauliflowers," said the girl who'd come on the tour with him. Daria hadn't given much thought to her; she seemed like one of those girls who was a natural-born airhead or one that felt like she had to hide the fact that she had a brain lest she become unpopular. But her idea was funny; Daria thought of some crazed potter making a clay sculpture of a cauliflower, then throwing it into an kiln to turn into pottery. Looking at the crystal formation again, Daria saw that the girl had a point.

Daria wasn't the only one who thought it was funny; Stacy giggled, and then Quinn giggled because Stacy thought it was funny.

The group paused at a place where one wall had a row of stalactites and stalagmites that had fused together along one side and a row of stalactites that hung down from the ceiling like a long, long row of teeth on the other.

"Folks, let's stop here for a moment and allow everybody to catch their breath," said the tour guide. Daria, Quinn, and Stacy didn't feel tired, but a grandfatherly type who'd been herding an active boy about Quinn's age paused in relief.

"How many of you have ever been someplace that was pitch dark?" asked the guide.

Jake raised his hand, as did one of the other adult tourists and one of the teenagers.

"I see only a handful of you have," said the guide. "This is how dark the caverns are without artificial lighting." He then turned the lights off, and they were surrounded by utter darkness.

Daria had never been anywhere where it was utterly dark. It was spooky. There literally was nothing she could see. It was a little scary and a little bit exhilarating.

After letting his group experience pitch-blackness for a while, the guide then tried to turn the lights back on. Nothing happened. Daria heard the click-click-click-click as the guide turned the light switch on and off.

"Folks," he said, "let's remain calm. The lights should come back on shortly."

 _This would be the perfect time for somebody to scream_ , said an evil voice in Daria's head.

Everybody stood nervously for the tour guide or somebody to fix the lighting in this part of the caverns.

Almost everybody. One of the college guys standing behind and to the side of Daria said "You know, Babe, if you're afraid that somebody will see us, this is the perfect place to do some necking. It's pitch black and nobody can see a thing."

"Oh, yeah," the girl that came on the tour with him said softly. "I like that. Let's."

Daria then heard the sounds of heavy breathing and lips moving together. _Eeuuh, gross,_ she thought.

If the romantic boy and girl weren't seen, they're certainly heard. "Do you _mind_?" said a woman who'd brought her children along on the short tour. "That's indecent! Do that someplace private!"

The woman might have had more to say, but her next remarks were cut short by a flock of green iridescent creatures flying out of some corner of the caverns, overhead, and then past, startling Daria and the other members of her party. Daria had no idea as to what those creatures were, save that whatever they were, they most certainly weren't bats.

A moment later, the guide flipped the switch again out of frustration and the lights came back on. Most of the tour group squinted and then opened and closed their eyes a few times to get used to the light. Daria's vision came back soon enough to catch the older girl pulling down her blouse. The prude glared at the young couple and Daria smiled.

Daria's group resumed their penetration of the caverns. The guide was showing them yet another interesting formation when another group emerged from the depths of the caverns going the other way. They were an odd-looking bunch; a couple looked like they were wearing what Daria thought could be proper explorers' clothing, long-sleeved shirts, long trousers, knee pads, boots with thick socks, but one of two of them also wore long, flowing robes that Daria noted with satisfaction had gotten torn and dirty. Most of them looked like they ought to be college age, although a couple of them looked older, older the Principal Strong back at James Ferguson Elementary School back in Highland. One or two of them at Daria's tour group with condescending smirks.

"Excuse us, coming through," said one of what she assumed were this other group's leaders. The newcomers were carrying nets and carrying cases, although strangely, they didn't seem to be carrying any flashlights.

 _Snobs,_ Daria thought darkly.

The lights went out again as the second group intermixed with Daria's tour group. Daria didn't care to get mixed with the second group and get dragged off to who-knew-where. She grabbed onto the sleeve of someone she thought was in her tour group, and hung on as it went away, but when the lights came back on she found she that she was with the newcomers.

"So who is this?" asked one of the younger members of the second group, spotting her. The older girl whose sleeve Daria had grabbed looked like she ought to be in college or something.

"I think she was with that other tour group," said another girl, who looked to be about the same age as the first girl.

Daria noted that people in this other group not only carried what looked like nets and storage boxes for what she thought were useful for catching butterflies, but also what could be magic wands, just like the ones she'd read about in _Sophie and the Evil Sorcerer_ , a fantasy book she'd found on sale at a library fundraiser. The evil wizard had a magic wand, and so did Sophie, once she learned how to use one.

"Well, she shouldn't be with us," said the older man, who looked like he taught high school or college. Daria didn't like him.

"Well, cast a memory charm on her and she won't remember a darn thing."

Daria's mind went into high gear. They were going to cast a spell to mess with her mind? _**Like hell they were.**_ Her mind went into high gear. Her hand darted out and grabbed the snobby prof's wand. She wondered if they had use some sort of silencing spell so the people in her group. Sophie had taken a wand and shouted "Luxo!", causing a great burst of light. Something told her that "Luxo!"wouldn't work and that she should say "Lumos!" instead.

"LUMOS!" shouted Daria, and a great burst of light came out of the man's wand, much to her astonishment.

If Daria was astonished, so were these wizards, if wizards were what they were. They all stood silent with astonishment, then a couple of them started chuckling. "On second thought, Professor Agassiz, maybe a memory charm isn't such a good idea after all," said a second wizard who also looked older than her dad. "You've just grabbed one of the local yokels and if you slipped up even a little bit on your wand work, the Marshals will be all over your case like flies on cow flop. Let me handle this."

The second professor turned his attention to Daria.

"Let's make a deal, young lady," he said. "We'll take you back to your tour group. You didn't see us, we didn't see you. We don't say anything, you don't say anything. This was all a big misunderstanding, OK?" He gave the girl what most people considered an ingratiating smile. The young girl looked right back at him and gave a surprisingly adult frown of suspicion mixed with deep disapproval.

"OK," said the girl, giving him another disapproving look. He didn't need to be a legilimens to know that this girl wasn't going to forgive or forget any time soon. He hoped for Professor Agassiz's sake that the girl would have let this afternoon slide by the time she was old enough to enroll at Ilvermorny.

"Professor Agassiz, I'll handle this solo," he said. The girl refused to take his hand, but she followed him anyway as he set down the cave trail. In a few minutes, he caught up with the girl's tour group and the man he presumed was the girl's father.

"I think you guys missed somebody," he said. "Here she is, safe and sound."

"Uh, thank you," said Jake, but the man had already stepped away after handing Daria off to her tour guide, then disappeared from sight.

Daria's own tour ended a short time later. The lights stayed on for the remainder of the tour, much to Daria's, Quinn's, and Stacy's relief.

The second group came out of the caverns just as Daria, Jake, Quinn, and Stacy were finishing up their shopping at the Cavern's souvenir shop. Daria kept a wary eye on the other group and stayed close to her Dad, Quinn and Stacy until they left the parking lot. Jake's truck had reached the eastbound ramp for I-20 before Daria had a chance to overhear the second professor mutter to his assistant "Jack Agassiz lucked out that time. That girl could have been Bellatrix LeStrange's cousin, for all we know."

Jake and the girls returned to the motel and the girls changed into their swimsuits, after which Jake walked them across the motel parking lot and they got into the motel's small swimming pool. There were a couple of slightly older kids from California treading water in the deep end; they said that there family was headed for Orlando and that their parents said that they were going to be in Pensacola by the following afternoon.

Jake and the girls had a quiet dinner in town at a Mexican restaurant that also served traditional American cooking, which spared Stacy from a case of pepper-induced heartburn. After dinner, Jake watched television with them for a while, then retired to his room.

That evening, Daria, Quinn, and Stacy decided to try alternate sleeping arrangements. The previous night Stacy slept in Quinn's bed. That didn't work out very well; Stacy had been restless and her talking in her sleep bothered Quinn. Tonight they'd try something different; Stacy would sleep in Daria's bed. Stacy slid in under the covers on the opposite side of Daria and both girls tried to go to sleep. Daria had difficulty falling asleep.

Stacy noticed that Daria was restless. "Daria?" she said. "Are you asleep?"

Stacy didn't know how lucky she was. If Daria had been asleep and Quinn had woken her up, she would have smacked her sister with a pillow. But this was Stacy, not Quinn, and Daria didn't think she could away with it.

"Yeah," said Daria.

"Do you want to hear something weird?"

 _I've been through a lot of weird stuff today_ , thought Daria. _I'd like to say no, but it would be nice to hear that_ someone else _had been going through some weird stuff, too._

"Whatever," said Daria.

"This morning, at the fort. I saw a girl named Eddie dressed up in old-timey clothes in one of the officer's quarters. She asked me my name and where I was from. After I told her my name was Stacy and that I was originally from Maryland, she asked me if I liked to play jacks. She said she could teach me, but she had to go get her set. I told her that I'd be interested and she said that she had to get her set. I heard the floor creak like somebody was going to come in or something and I turned around to see who it was and then looked back at Eddie and she had disappeared, like she was never there."

"I had something sort of like that happen to me," said Daria. "Something like that happened to me, too."

"You remember when I got separated from you, Quinn, and Dad?" said Daria.

"A man dressed as a cavalry sergeant took me to the Colonel's office."

"What happened then?" asked Stacy.

"Well, he took me to the Colonel's office, and the Colonel told me that he didn't keep track of all the civilians wandering around his fort. Then he had the Sergeant take me out of there, and the sergeant pointed out where I could find you guys and dad."

"So?" said Stacy.

"Stacy, I bought a postcard with a picture of the colonel on it. That Colonel has been dead for nearly 100 years," said Daria.

Both girls looked at each other. "Holy Shit!" they chorused.

Epilogue:

Daria woke up and turned on the light on the nightstand next to their bed so she could find her eyeglasses. She put them on and looked at the alarm clock. It was 3:30 AM. She had dropped off to sleep shortly after she and Stacy had finished talking. She was a little worried that she'd wake up Stacy and looked over at her. She needn't have worried; Stacy was still fast asleep, a smile on her lips.

Daria was about to look away when she saw what looked like a small cloud of fireflies over on Stacy's side of the bed. These fireflies were orange, red, blue, and green. Daria wondered how they'd gotten into the room; she, Quinn, and Stacy had left the door closed and locked after Dad had gone over to his room. Surely they hadn't been hiding in the air conditioning ducts, had they?

Unless it was more of that weird stuff.

She would have liked to have watched the fireflies some more, but she had business to take care of. She rose, took care of it, and returned a couple of minutes later. She got back into bed, turned off the table lamp, and watched the fireflies as they circled Stacy, then began to fly over to Daria's side of the bed. She watched for a few minutes longer until the fireflies began to wink out one after the other.

-(((o-o)))—

Author's notes: The Caverns of Sonora are a very real tourist attraction, located about 170 miles west of San Antonio, Texas on US Interstate Highway 10. Although not as well-known or spectacular as Carlsbad Caverns or Mammoth Cave, they are nevertheless an interesting destination and a welcome respite from Texas' brutally-hot summers.

I created Sophie and the Sorcerer as a detail illustrating my alternate-universe Magical Congress of the United States of America's effort to conceal the magical world from non-magicals. I decided that one technique that MACUSA would use would be disinformation. Even if the non-magical population suspected that magical tools like wands might exist, by giving out the wrong words for verbal spells, wizards and witches might persuade non-magicals that magic doesn't work and therefore doesn't exist.

Those luminescent bugs that buzzed Daria's tour group are not native either to the real Caverns of Sonora or its alternate-universe counterpart. They're an introduced magical species.

A reminder. I wrote this crossover from a Daria fan's perspective, with the idea that many Daria fans might not be acquainted with all the names and terms used in JK Rowling's magical universe. In my alternate universe, American aurors are called Marshals. MACUSA's marshals have no ties with the Muggle/no-maj US Marshal's Service.


	22. Chapter 22

Daria Ravenclaw Highland Years Third Grade Starts

Daria is the creation of Glenn Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. Harry Potter is the creation of JK Rowling and is the property of JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. I own neither and neither expect nor deserve financial compensation for this story. Nor do I own the rights to Greater Tuna or PG Wodehouse's memorable cast of wonderful characters. I am writing for my own amusement and ego gratification.

Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years* Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years

The rest of the summer was a mixture of the new and the same old same old. Daria did tell Linda and Jessie about the billboard advertising the remaining distance between Sonora and Los Angeles; all three girls laughed. Daria also told them her ghost story; Jessie seemed interested, but Linda acted like Daria's story bothered her after she'd finished telling it. Gloria invited Daria to go roller-skating; it was the first time that Daria had ever been on roller-skates and despite the fact that she lost her balance and fell a couple of times, it wasn't as horrible as she'd feared it might be. Farrah also invited Daria to accompany her and her grandfather out to the ranch where Farrah's cousin Laura Penrick lived.

School started again three weeks later. It didn't take Daria very long to get back into the rhythm of school life, even if it was at James Ferguson Elementary School. Daria, like Jessie and Linda, was now a third-grader: Quinn had moved up from kindergarten to first grade. Being a third-grader was a mixed blessing, at least from Daria's point of view; while third and fourth graders weren't watched as closely as first and second graders, they weren't considered quite as responsible as fifth and sixth-graders.

Daria and Jessie no longer carpooled with Linda. Linda's mom's new schedule precluded afternoon carpool and Linda was still resentful at Daria for not taking her on the trip to Sonora, as well as for older sins like starting the collapse of Mrs. Crush's ballet class. Linda now rode her bicycle to school; Mr. and Mrs. Hurd had given her one for her birthday. Linda;'s place was taken by Dale Markham; Jessie's younger sister was now in First Grade and could take Linda's space. Daria still thought that carpooling was annoying. She felt old enough to walk to school; it was a mile away and some of the kids in her class were already hoofing it or riding their bicycles. But her Mom and Dad insisted that she would carpool just like Quinn did, so she stayed in carpool.

Daria walked into home room and took her customary seat towards the back of the classroom. Her fellow third-graders were mostly people she knew from the previous year. A couple of faces were new, a couple of others were missing. Was Bethany Hays here this year? There was an unfamiliar Mexican-American girl sitting in her seat. And what about Shirelle Johnson? An unfamiliar white girl sat in her seat.

There was an unfamiliar white boy sitting in Mike Ferguson's seat. Daria hoped for the new kid's sake that if Mike came back to school, he'd be in a good mood. Mike was territorial and thought of that seat as _his_.

Other third-graders were trying to come to terms with the new school year. Nancy Carrew came in and sat down in what had been her usual seat in second grade. The chalkboard behind the teacher's desk was blank except for the name Sandra O'Meara written there. _Good,_ thought Nancy, _we're going to get a_ real _American instead of one of those Mexican teachers_. The door opened, and a brown-skinned woman with black coiffed hair walked up to the desk and put down a stack of folders and handouts. Nancy frowned. _What was this Mexican doing here?_

The school bell rang and the teacher walked behind the desk and looked at Nancy and the other kids. "Good morning, class," said the woman. "I'm Sandra O'Meara and I'm going to be your teacher this year. Let's do roll call."

Daria listened as the teacher read roll. The Aldretes were here; Daria could see them sitting in their seats, but being on the roll call made it official. Beavis' mom had completed his paperwork. One of the new girls was named Marcy Buell, another was Martina Benavides. Nancy Carrew was official again ( _Rats_ , thought Daria). Ben Cooper was back. So was Abigail Goodman. Jasmine Masters was also there. The new boy in Mike Ferguson's seat was improbably named Cuthbert Fink Nottle.

The entire class giggled at the new boy's name. "Cuthbert," she said. "Is your last name Nottle, or is it Fink Nottle?"

"Fink Nottle, ma'am," said Cuthbert in what Daria could tell was an English accent. _What was this poor kid doing here,_ she wondered.

"Fink Nottle, then," said Ms. O'Meara, and resumed calling roll. Mike Ferguson was gone, so the new kid didn't have to worry about his wrath for taking his seat. Butthead was now official, a short time later. So was Jasmine Masters. Daria noted that she was official, too, as was Billy Nance and An Nguyen, who Daria remembered from ballet class.

At ten till eleven, Daria and the other children in her third grade class got up to go to Physical Education. PE class was held right before lunch; Daria suspected that the principal scheduled it then so the kids would eat the horrible lunches they served in the cafeteria. Unlike other classes at James Ferguson Elementary School, Physical Education only divided between the younger and smaller children from grades one through three, and the older, larger children in grades four through six.

Stacy and Quinn were out there, too. Daria waved, more at Stacy than at Quinn, but Sis was in the zone so she supposed it counted.

Coach Bunt, the PE teacher, started taking roll. She read all the way through it, then smiled and asked "Any questions?"

Cuthbert's hand was up and waving.

"Excuse me, ma'am," said Cuthbert. "Are you going to teach us to play cricket?"

"Cricket? What's that?" said Coach Bunt. She looked completely non-plussed. Many of the other children started laughing.

"Does anybody know what Cricket is?" asked Coach Bunt. "Is that a real game?" If this kid was trying to prank her, she was going to give him a public smack-down.

Daria's hand went up. A couple of moments later Ben Cooper and Abigail Goodman reluctantly raised their hands, too.

"Morgendorffer," said Coach Bunt. She paused for a moment, realizing that there were now two Morgendorffers, not just one.

"The older one," she said.

"Cricket is a game played with bats and balls, Ma'am," said Daria. "The bats look like really big two by fours. The object is to hit the ball and score as many runs as possible."

Coach Bunt didn't like her. _Don't give Coach Bunt a chance to make fun of you_ , she told herself.

"They play it in England and in the Caribbean," she added.

"Like baseball, then?" asked Coach Bunt. _D_, she was losing control of the situation, and to the Morgendorffer kid no less_.

"No, Ma'am," said Daria. "It's real different."

"Where else do they play this Cricket?" asked Coach Bunt. She pointed at Ben Cooper. "You, Cooper. You had your hand up a moment ago. Where else do they play this Cricket?"

"Australia and New Zealand, Ma'am," he said.

"Speak up!" said Coach Bunt.

"Australia and New Zealand, Ma'am," said Ben.

Coach Bunt frowned at him, then frowned at Daria, then turned her attention back to Cuthbert.

"We don't teach Cricket here," she said. "Maybe you'll like football instead." She then looked over the rest of her class. "I see that most of you have been sitting around doing nothing all summer. That's going to change. I want you all to form lines and then we'll start doing jumping jacks."

-(((o-o)))—

Jeanine Javert drank her coffee in the Teacher's Lounge. Coach Bunt had come in earlier and left in a grumpy mood. A new kid from Britain had asked her if she was going to teach Cricket and of course she said no. In fact, she thought that the new kid might have gotten together beforehand with the older Morgendorffer girl to prank her about a non-existent game, and she belatedly decided to double check the new kid by canvassing the Teachers' Lounge. She'd just learned from other teachers that Cricket really existed, that Cricket was widely-played and really popular in other parts of the world, just not in North America and Mexico. In fact, Larry Sanders, a fourth grade teacher, invited her to watch a Cricket program that was scheduled to play on PBS on Thursday night.

A couple of days later Diocles McGraw was making his rounds in art class as the children sketched using pencils and paper. He'd already sent Beavis and Butthead down to the Principal's Office; he was normally a laid-back individual, but he disliked kids who bullied other students or deliberately disrupted class. He wanted to give his kids a chance to create in a stress-free environment where they weren't being hassled either by would-be bullies or other kids who just wanted attention.

The childrens' attitudes that morning ran the gamut. Several of them were clearly goofing off. Others might or might not have been; Diocles knew from working with a couple of those in previous years that they sometimes needed to think and think hard about what they were going to draw. He was surprised to see the Aldrete sisters hard at work on their drawings. The Carrew kid not so much. Daria Morgendorffer was hard at work on her drawing, as was the new kid from Britain, Cuthbert Fink Nottle.

He leaned over Cuthbert's shoulder to see what the boy was drawing. It was a surprisingly-detailed drawing of a sun fish, the sort of fish he'd caught back when he visited family in East Texas. Diocles was a little surprised; the Fink Nottle kid's drawing was very detailed, far more than the sorts of drawings most kids his age made. It wasn't yet the sort of drawing an adult would make, but it was clear that the boy was in love with his subject.

"You like fish, don't you?" he said.

"Yes, sir," said Cuthbert. "I think they're super."

"Why do they call this a sun fish?" asked Cuthbert, looking at his drawing. "I thought the only Sun Fish lived in the ocean."

"That I can't tell you," said Diocles. "I teach art, not biology. I didn't even know there was an ocean species of Sun Fish until I visited Hawaii some years ago."

About two weeks later, Daria walked through the main entrance to find a large folding table in the foyer covered with tee shirts. A sign stood below table: SUPPORT THE FLYERS! JAMES FERGUSON FLAG FOOTBALL!

Gail was one of the kids working the table, and spotted Daria within seconds.

"We're having a raffle to support the football team," she said. "C'mon, Daria, be a sport."

Daria looked dubiously at Gail, then decided to look over the tee shirts the flag football boosters were raffling off. The prizes were mostly children's-sized tees for the Southwest Conference football teams. Most of them featured the emblems of the various college and university football teams, and many of them were either too big or too small. _Good,_ thought Daria smugly, _if I win one, I won't have to wear it_. Some booster must have goofed when they bought University of Texas tee shirts. There were three of those, but one lacked a Longhorn logo, having only the emblem of the University of Texas at Austin. The tee was in Daria's size, too.

 _This is such a waste of money_ , thought Daria. Still, she did like the shirt with the University of Texas seal on it. If there was one tee in that jumbled pile of college tees she wanted, that shirt was it. She crossed her fingers and bought three raffle tickets.

Ms. O'Meara had a surprise for her class that morning. She announced that the third graders would be leaving on a field trip to the Petroleum Museum in Midland in a couple of weeks. She told them that everyone could go, but they'd have to have their parents fill out waivers, bring them back to school, and hand them in beforehand, otherwise they couldn't board the buses.

Daria broke the news at the family dinner table.

"That's great, Daria!" said Jake.

Her mother's reaction was almost as enthusiastic as her husband's. "I think it's wonderful that your school is going to take you on field trips," said Helen. "Where are you going to go?"

"We're going to see the Petroleum Museum in Midland," said Daria. "Mrs. O'Meara said that we'll also see the Museum of the Southwest."

"You know, when I was your age, the school where I lived would take us on field trips to Washington," said Helen. "We saw the Smithsonian, the Capitol, the Washington Monument, and the Lincoln Memorial. Maybe you'll get to see those someday."

"So do you have that release form with you? I'd like to see it before I sign."

The following morning, the school officials had Assembly. Principal Strong was sick, and Vice Principal Trimble directed it. After welcoming the children back to school, reminding them of school policies, telling them that the best way to show school spirit was good behavior and to do what they were told, Vice Principal Trimble mentioned the date for an upcoming Parents and Teachers Association meeting in passing, then announced the date for the first flag football game, which would be a home game against Tuna's one and only elementary school. Only then did he announce the drawings for the tee shirts in the raffle. The head of the booster club, Mike Bauer, stepped onto the stage with his jar full of raffle tickets

Daria sat back and expected to be bored. Most of the kids who won shirts had invested a lot of money in raffle tickets and she doubted that she'd win anything. She tried not to look too bored as other kids went up to the stage, rummaged through the increasingly disorganized pile of tee shirts and walked away with their red, green, maroon, and blue tee shirts. She only perked up when Joette Porter walked up to the stage. Daria knew that Joette was a big Longhorns fan. Daria saw Joette's arm go out and pick up a burnt-orange tee. Joette clutched her tee shirt with the logo facing towards her, so Daria couldn't see what it was. She closed her eyes and sighed; Joette had probably picked the shirt she wanted.

The head of the booster club drew another raffle ticket and handed in to Vice Principal Trimble.

"Daria Morgendorffer," said Mister Trimble.

Daria reluctantly got up and walked to the front to claim her prize. _A walk in futility_ , she thought. Joette probably has the shirt she wanted. She looked over the jumble of red and green and blue tees on the table and saw a re-folded burnt-orange tee peeping under a mixed stack of Baylor, UH and Texas A&M tees. She reached out, hoping against hope, and pulled it out.

She smiled. No, Joette had picked the tee with the Longhorn logo. The UT tee she really wanted was still there, and unclaimed. Daria picked it up and clutched it against her waist. The tee she really wanted was hers.

"And what do you have to say, Miss Morgendorffer?" asked Vice Principal Trimble.

"Thank you," said Daria. She then walked back to her seat and sat down.

-(((o-o)))—

Author's notes: Despite the fact that PG Wodehouse's Jeeves series' and Mister Mulliner's cast of characters seem timeless, the action in Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years occurs at least sixty years after the Jeeves stories, and characters like Bertram Wooster, Gussie Fink Nottle, Aunt Agatha, and Jeeves himself are either very elderly or have passed on. Cuthbert Fink Nottle is one of Gussie Fink Nottle's great-grandchildren and has different traits from his great grandfather.

So why the fuss about a burnt-orange tee shirt? Daria comes from a family whose parents supported education and academic achievement. To her, a shirt with the university emblem on it means that she supports the entire school, including academics and scholarship, not just the sports team. And for a child already beginning to feel smothered by the small town and small minds of Highland, Texas, the University of Texas at Austin is a symbol for future escape.


	23. Chapter 23

Daria Ravenclaw Highland Years Petroleum Museum Part One

 _Daria_ is the creation of Glenn Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. _Harry Potter_ is the creation of JK Rowling and is the property of JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. I own neither. Gussie Fink Nottle and probably the Fink Nottle surname was the creation of PG Wodehouse and is the property of his heirs. In any event, I neither expect nor deserve any financial reward for this story. I am writing for my own amusement and for ego gratification.

This part rated T for Language

Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years

Daria counted on Jessie Markham's friendship as a given. Jessie was one of the people that made Highland tolerable, that they could talk about things that didn't involve boys or football, and that they'd both be there for each other. That changed a couple of evenings later when Mr. and Mrs. Markham came over while Jessie and Dale were over at Linda's house. They were happy to see everybody, but there was something a little off. Daria didn't recognize it; the Markhams seemed a little sad.

Daria didn't recognize what it meant until a few minutes later. "Helen, Jake, Daria, Quinn, and Veronica we're going to have to make our goodbyes soon," said Russ. "We're leaving Highland."

"What?" said Helen.

"Russ has found a good job in Plano," said Mrs. Markham with a little pride. "It looks like those brainstorming classes worked out for us, too. We'll be moving in a couple of weeks."

 _This was getting scary_ , thought Daria. _First Cindy moved, now Jessie was moving, too_.

All four girls tried to come to grips with the news during the next couple of days. They'd been friends practically since they could crawl. Dale and Quinn cried, as did Jessie; Daria couldn't bring herself to cry, but did find herself wiping away the tears from the corners of her eyes whenever she thought about it. They resolved to do as much as they could together before they drove away.

Much as she had when Cindy got ready to move away, Daria was frequently over at the Markhams' house helping Jessie get ready to move, as was Linda. Quinn did the same for Dale. Audrey and Russ poassed some of their things to friends; Audrey discovered a cache of Dale's toddler clothing while cleaning the attic and offered it to Helen and Jake. The following weekend the girls went to the movies together and watched _The Care Bears' Adventures in Wonderland_. Daria and Jessie already considered themselves too old for it, but Dale and Quinn wanted to go see it, so they sat companionably and watched the Care Bears deal with the strange new environment of Wonderland, which to Daria's mind had nothing to do with the Wonderland Alice traveled to in _Alice in Wonderland_.

"What are you going to wear for Halloween this year?" asked Jessie. "I'll be gone before I get to see it, but I'm dying to know what you're planning to wear."

"Jessie, it's still September," said Daria.

"I know," said Jessie, "but last year you put things off and barely got a costume ready before the end of October. Maybe if you gave yourself more lead time, you'll have something you'll like."

"Hey, Quinn," said Jessie, "what are _you_ going to dress up as for Halloween?"

"I'm going to go as Raggedy Ann this year," said Quinn.

"You could go as a witch, Daria," Dale piped up.

"No," said Daria. "I want to do something different." The weird stuff during her mini-vacation still bothered her.

While Daria thought about what she might say next, Mr. Markham turned on the living room television to watch the pre-game special before the NFL football game. The girls had watched cartoons that morning, leaving the television tuned to the local station. Jessie had to walk up to the set and click the "off" button; the TV remote needed new batteries. Daria heard a chorus sing "WONDER WOMAN!" as Linda Woman transformed on TV before Mr. Markham could change the channel to the sports station and realized that she knew what she'd be wearing as this year's Halloween costume.

The day for the field trip to Midland finally came around. Daria still wasn't sure that the powers-that-were in Highland were going to find a way to cancel the field trip. But there they were, all three of them. Not that she or her classmates were allowed to board immediately: the teachers herded the children off to the side and made them pose for a group picture. Mister McGraw was the teacher taking the pictures, and the children were restless enough that he had to take several of them. Finally, he was done, and the teachers told the children that they were now to get on the busses. Ms. O'Meara pointed at the second bus and told her class that they were supposed to board that one. Daria boarded the bus in a mixture of excitement mixed with a little fear. They were finally going somewhere!

Ms. O'Meara and the other third grade teachers had created a combined roll call for the kids who would be going on the field trip. Beavis and Butthead wouldn't be going; they'd spend the day in study hall because their parents had forgotten to sign the waivers. Daria, Jessie, and Linda hung back, letting other children board and grab the first several rows, then they got on. The timing could be a little tricky, but they got the rows just behind the wheel wells. Daria and Jessie sat next to each other, Daria taking the window seat, Jessie taking the aisle seat. Linda took the aisle seat across from Linda. The late-comers would get the worst seats, the ones right above the wheel well.

Cuthbert Fink Nottle took the window seat right in front of her. After a brief "Hallo" he turned away to talk to the boys to the side and front of him. The doors closed, the busses started up, and started rolling out of the school parking lot for the drive west to Midland. As the busses made their way down the streets of Highland to Interstate highway 20, the teachers minding the children reminded them of the rules and told them that not only were they expected to remain seated for the trip to museum, they were supposed to be on their best behavior.

Daria guessed that the same busses were also used by high school students. There were signs they'd been there: a couple of initials scratched through the paint as well as several words written in marker that made her classmates blush.

For all their desire to get away from Highland, Daria, Jessie, and Linda were local girls and took the local terrain for granted. All three girls had been to Midland from time to time and just weren't all that impressed with the landscape. They talked to each other about what they were already starting to think of as old times, about what they wanted to see and do after they left school, and what they wanted to do before Jessie moved to Plano.

Cuthbert found the landscape fascinating and started pestering the boys on either side of him for information. Andy and Joe Bob were not particularly curious themselves and had little patience with people who asked questions.

"Those are cows, aren't they?" said Cuthbert. "Are there a lot of cows around here?"

"Yeah," said Andy.

"Is that an oil rig?" asked Cuthbert, seeing large pump jack that had been stilled by the oil bust.

"No, that's a pump-jack, Dumb ass," said Joe Bob.

"So what sorts of fencing do they use to keep the cows from wandering away?" Cuthbert asked. "Where I come from, they use a lot of wood fencing, but I don't see a lot of trees around here. It looks like they use wire instead. Is there anything special about the wire they use? Is it electrified or something?"

"They use bob wire," said Jack. Jack was one of the third-grade boys from a ranching family.

"Bob wire?" asked Cuthbert. "Is there anything special about bob wire? Was it invented by somebody named Bob?"

Jack told Cuthbert that bob wire was actually called barbed wire, and hoped that the new guy would run out of questions. It didn't; Cuthbert kept asking questions almost to the Midland County line, even when the answers started getting shorter and testier.

The busses finally arrived at the Petroleum Museum and the children all piled out, most forming groups centered around their teachers and friends, others beginning to drift off to the sides. Ms. O'Meara took her turn at intercepting a couple of strays and returning them to the main body of schoolchildren. Daria was reminded of the calf-roping event at the rodeo. The teachers again reminded them that they were supposed to stay together and behave.

The children's visit began with an orientation presentation in the Petroleum Museum's small theater. After a welcome, first by a volunteer guide, then by the current museum director and a geologist who helped narrate the audio-visual presentation, the children sat down. The audio-visual presentation started playing and most of the children grew quiet.

"The Permian basin was formed hundreds of millions of years ago when this area was underwater and the North American continent collided with Gondwanaland," said the narrator. The visuals cut away to a scene that was set on the ocean floor.

Daria thought that the trilobites and some of the extinct mollusks looked exotic, but many of the ancient sharks and fish they depicted on the screen didn't look that different from what she thought she would see at a good big-city aquarium. Cuthbert, on the other hand, found the differences between Permian and Tertiary period fishes fascinating, and wished that some of those species were still in the ocean. He'd already been snorkeling with his family in the Mediterranean and the Caribbean and could already tell just how different the Permian reefs were from the ones he'd swum over.

"Eventually, the seas receded and this area became land," said the narrator. Cuthbert squirmed in his chair. He'd have liked to have seen more about the area's former seas and reefs, particularly the fish.

"The Permian Period ended with a mass extinction which is thought to have killed off ninety percent of the known species on Earth," said the narrator. The story continued even after the end of the Permian Period and the seas receded. The ancient basin's sediments were buried and eventually hardened to stone. These in turn were buried by other strata of rock. In the meantime, much of the ancient organic matter left behind when the seas covered the Permian Basin become petroleum. The audio-visual presentation went on to show a montage of old black and white still photographs of some of the early oil drillers, then black and white and color movie footage showing oil rigs drilling into the rock below in search of oil. Daria idly wondered if the drillers on the screen had actually found oil or if they'd actually been rigs that hit dry holes but looked pretty anyway. The video then went on to present a brief overview of petroleum production from wellhead to pipeline to refinery set at an older child's intellectual level, extolled the role of the oil industry in the Permian Basin's economy, then ended with a shot of a large American flag waving in front of a background of pump jacks and a triumphal fanfare.

The video projector went dark, the lights came back on, and the volunteer guide stepped up on the small stage in front of the projection screen. "Any questions?" she asked.

"So where are the dinosaurs?" asked Ralph Rogers. Daria knew that Ralph was interested in dinosaurs, but not nearly as intensely as Cuthbert Fink Nottle was in fish.

"Dinosaurs hadn't appeared yet," said the volunteer guide. "They didn't come along until the Triassic period."

"You said that this area used to be underwater," said Amos Pryor. "Doesn't that mean there was a Great Flood?"

"No," said the volunteer guide said irritably. The guide sounded like she was going to lose it. Daria decided not to jump in yet; this might be fun. "When was this Great Flood supposed to have happened?"

"The Bible said the Great Flood happened six thousand years ago," said Amos.

"Oh, boy," thought Daria. Jessie saw Daria rolling her eyes and smirked .

"There is no sign that a great flood covered Midland County or the rest of the Permian Basin for the last six thousand years," said the guide. "Besides, it takes thousands of years for skeletons to fossilize, and I think I'd notice if I found a whale skeleton while digging in my back yard."

Several children tittered, Amos Pryor and Nancy Carrew glowered.

"Any other questions?" asked the guide, hoping that there wouldn't be any more discussion about Creationist theories.

"Didn't there used to be a refinery at the edge of town?" said Joe Bob. "My dad said that the liberals closed it down."

"The oil industry has had difficulties these last few years because of the slump in oil prices," the volunteer guide said calmly and patiently. "A lot of small oil companies have gone bankrupt, many drillers are out of work, and some of the smaller and less-efficient refineries have been unable to successfully compete."

Joe Bob looked unconvinced.

Mrs. Boaz, one of the other third-grade teachers, decided to spread dirt on the incipient forest fire before it ignited the entire auditorium.

"That's all the time for questions," she said. "Thank you very much for your help, Mrs. Weld. Now let's move on to the Permian Reef exhibit in a quiet, orderly fashion," she added, looking Joe Bob and also Amos Pryor in the eye.

-(((o-o)))—

Author's note: _Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years_ is a period piece, set to follow JK Rowling's timeline as set out in _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows_. This chapter is set in late 1987, during an oil bust that hit Texas' Permian Basin area hard, idling dozens of oil rigs, bankrupting smaller oil companies, closing smaller, less-profitable oil refineries, and throwing hundreds of people out of work.


	24. Chapter 24

Daria Ravenclaw Highland Years Trilobites and Flopping Fish

Daria is the creation of Glenn Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. Kimberly was a character from Beavis and Butthead and is also the property of MTV Viacom. Harry Potter is the creation of JK Rowling and is the property of JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. I own neither. Gussie Fink Nottle and probably the Fink Nottle surname was the creation of PG Wodehouse and is the property of his heirs. In any event I neither intend nor deserve to financially profit from this story. I am merely writing for amusement and for ego gratification.

Daria Ravenclaw:The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw:The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw*The Highland Years

The teachers and children left the small auditorium and went into the first exhibit, the Permian Reef. One wall had an extensive display representing the ancient corals, fish, and sea creatures that populated reefs in the area around the Permian Basin hundreds of millions of years before when the area around Midland had been coral reefs and shallow sea bottom. Daria and the other children looked at the display with amusement. Most of the replica fish looked like, well, like fish. The ancient coral formations looked like a mixture of a couple of modern coral reefs Daria had seen in books and on PBS mixed with strange exotics. The recreated reef also held long-extinct arthropods like Trilobites, which looked like nothing on dry land, and extinct mollusks that looked like squid that had somehow grown shells.

Daria soon learned that it was fun to listen to the other children and hear their reactions to some of the exotics—like the boy who said that the whorl toothed shark looked like a shark that ate a circular saw, and a girl that said that one of the sponges looked like an underwater Saguaro cactus.

The Permian Reef exhibit wasn't just limited to recreations and representations; it also had a large display case with several fish fossils. Daria only got a fleeting glimpse shortly after the video ended; the display drew Cuthbert Fink Nottle and a couple of other boys like a magnet attracted iron filings and it proved impossible to see through or around them.

Still, she tried. "Excuse me," she said, "but I'd like to look." Fink Nottle and the other kid proved oblivious.

She tried again. "Excuse me, but I'd like to look, too."

No reaction. It was like Fink Nottle was living on Planet Permian.

Daria noted a second display case being prepared for new exhibits. A museum docent had brought a cart with several fossil trilobites for the children to see. While the children got a better opportunity to see the trilobites, unobstructed by glass and locks, the docent found his hands full trying to keep the children from actually touching the fossils. He'd hoped to talk about trilobites and how fossils were formed; instead, he found himself spending most of his time saying "You can look, but you can't touch," and "Please don't touch the fossils. These are millions of years old and very precious."

Most of the other third-graders decided that arthropods were kind of gross, so Daria got a chance to look over the trilobite fossils. The fossils looked ribbed and eyeless, something like a cross between a pill bug and a clawless crab. Of course the ancient exoskeletons had mineralized over millions of years; still, Daria still wondered what they looked like back when they were alive, if they were as brown and ugly as the fossil remains, or if they'd been much more colorful.

Daria turned back to look at the main fossil display case. There were not only kids from her classroom crowding around the case, but also kids from the other third grade classrooms. It looked increasingly obvious that she wasn't going to get a look. Even if Fink Nottle and the other kid got out of the way, their places would taken by kids from the other class before she got to see them.

She decided to take care of business and walk off some frustration at the same time. She went up to her teacher and asked: "Ms. O'Meara, could I go to the bathroom, please?"

"Go ahead, but come right back," said Mrs. O'Meara. Daria Morgendorffer wasn't her best-behaved pupil, but she was one of those kids who liked studying in an orderly environment and didn't go out of her way to make trouble.

Daria made her way to the restroom, did what she needed to do, then washed her hands. She stepped out of the corridor and overheard the sound of giggling. The Aldrete sisters had evidently decided they'd seen enough of the Permian Reef and decided that the Automobile Exhibit was more interesting.

Normally Daria would have ignored the Aldrete sisters and gone back to the Permian Reef exhibit to rejoin her classmates, but Linda had been one of the girls crowding the fossil display case and Nancy Carrew was in there, too. This once, she decided to take her time before she returned.

The Aldrete sisters and Daria separated, the Aldretes to admire the automobiles, Daria to study the displays concerning oil drilling equipment. Daria walked over to admire a model of a drilling rig with a big diagram beside it illustrating a rig's parts and showing their names. Daria found herself working her lips to avoid smirking while she looked at them; several of the popular girls had mocked her when she smirked, as had Mrs. Crush back in ballet class. So many funny names: a Kelly, a monkey board, a Kelly hose, mud. Daria heard of some women using mud for beauty treatments, but she doubted that drilling mud was quite the same thing.

Despite the fact she was only eight years old, Daria knew that the oil bust had hit the area around Whirlwind Drive pretty hard. A couple of families that Daria barely remembered had moved away. Mister Snopes, his brother, and his father had been busy and prosperous oil field mechanics during the boom; now they looked for any work they could get. Mister Singer had been another oil-field worker thrown out of work by the bust; he'd been proud that he'd been able to stand by what he considered to be "Biblical principals" and have his wife remain at home while he supported the family, but now she had to go out to work, too.

She was studying the names and shapes on the drilling rig diagram and wondering if real writers took notes when they saw displays like these when all of a sudden she heard yelling and shrieking coming from the direction of the Reef Exhibit. Jeezle, she thought, is there some nut case with a machete swinging at her classmates? Knowing Highland, that was all too possible. If that was the case, she'd better look for a hiding place, a good one, and hide herself fast.

She went to the edge of the doorway and peeked out, preparing to duck back inside and hide herself. She caught a glimpse of the Aldrete sisters peeking from the automotive room in fright and suspected that they had the same idea.

Just before she was about to start looking for a serious hiding place and go about hiding herself, she heard Mister Shield start bellowing "BOYS AND GIRLS! BOYS AND GIRLS!" _Good_ , thought Daria, _that probably meant that there wasn't a nut with a machete after all_. In seconds, Ms. O'Meara and Mrs. Boaz took up the call. It looked like sanity and order might be restored.

Daria emerged from the oil production room thinking that things might be safe enough to come out of hiding, but ready to run someplace else and hide in case Mr. Shield was wrong. The Aldrete sisters had the right idea, she thought; the automotive room probably had plenty of good hiding places. She was just in time to see Mr. Shield turn to the shaken docent for a moment to say "YOU, MAN! GET A GRIP ON YOURSELF! CLOSE THAT DISPLAY AREA AND START CLEANING IT UP!" She also saw another grown-up, an oddly-dressed man holding what looked like an old-fashioned camera, scurry off and into the men's restroom.

"MY CLASS," said Mister Shield, "FORM FOUR LINES AND SOUND OFF!" Daria didn't doubt that his kids would do it. She'd heard that Mister Shield was pretty strict; you did what you were told or else. His children started forming lines and even before they had lined up, Daria heard his kids counting "One!" "Two!" "Three! "Four!".

Ms. O'Meara and Ms. Boaz decided that Mister Shield's idea seemed to be working. "My class!" Ms. O'Meara shouted. "Form four lines and sound off! I will take off points if you don't co-operate!"

Daria and the Aldrete sisters emerged from hiding and hurried to place themselves in one of Ms. O'Meara's lines. Daria hoped that Ms. O'Meara wouldn't make a big deal over the fact that she'd been away when whatever-it-was in the Permian Reef room had happened. Daria found a place in Ms. O'Meara's fourth line; Jesse had taken a place in Ms. O'Meara's third line. Daria looked at Jessie and murmured "What happened?"

"Well," Jesse started. Her explanation was interrupted by Ms. O'Meara taking note of them and saying "Girls! Sh-h-h-h-h!"

Once the teachers had the children settled down, they huddled together for a quick conference. Daria wondered if they were going to cancel the field trip and have the bus drivers take everybody back to Highland. Mister Shield quickly took charge of the discussion and he and the other teachers soon came to a quick decision. The teachers turned back to their classes and Ms. O'Meara said "Children, now that things have settled down, we are going to continue our tour. Let's go to the oil production display."

Daria wondered what had just happened. She _really_ wanted to know. She'd have liked to have asked Ms. O'Meara, but this was definitely _**not**_ a good time to ask. Maybe her friends or some of her other classmates would tell her.

Daria edged up to Jessie next to a display illustrating the oil refining process. "What happened in there?" she asked.

"Don't you know?" Jessie replied.

"No," said Daria. "I was in the bathroom."

Despite the fact that she and Jessie were talking in a low murmur, they still made too much noise for Ms. O'Meara's rattled equilibrium. "Hshhh!" she said.

The school children emerged from the Oil Production Exhibit and headed for the automotive display. Daria glanced back at the Permian Reef exhibit. There were now several stacking chairs, yellow tape, and a large sign that said CLOSED.

The rest of the museum visit was anti-climactic. Daria didn't doubt that she and her classmates, particularly those who didn't have a good view of whatever happened at the Permian ReefEexhibit, were writhing with curiosity as to how the stampede started. But conversation here was useless. Both Mrs. Boaz and Ms. O'Meara , one or the others of the teachers would pounce on them and say "Sh-h-h-h!" if they so much as said one word.

After the teachers were certain that the children had seen all the exhibits they thought they should see, they were quickly bundled back onto their school busses and were driven over to the Museum of the Southwest. Daria didn't doubt that she and her classmates, particularly those who didn't have a good view of whatever happened at the Permian Reef exhibit, were burning with curiosity as to how the stampede started. But it was no use asking just now. Every time a couple of children tried to talk about what happened at the Reef exhibit, one or the others of the teachers would pounce on them and say "Sh-h-h-h!". Feeling grumpy and out-of-sorts, Daria and the other children rode in enforced silence to their next stop.

The people who had organized the Midland field trip had arranged for the children to eat box lunches served inside a gated patio on the far side of the Museum of the Southwest from the entrance. The teachers still enforced their "no talking" ban, and except for answering questions as to what sandwiches they wanted or whether they wanted soda or bottled water, the children could say nothing. Daria, Jessie, and Linda ate their lunches together, Daria eating a chicken sandwich that had spent the morning inside a large plastic cooler. Linda looked at her strangely. Daria wondered why; if wasn't like she'd done anything.

Nancy Carrew walked by, looked at Daria and made an anti-hex sign a couple of the more superstitious children used and murmured "Witchcraft!"

Daria glared at Nancy's back and glared _. In your dreams, Carrew_ , she thought.

The Museum of the Southwest largely specialized in art and with certain exceptions, most of the children looked and acted a bit bored. Daria interested herself in the paintings and and sculpture; she would have liked to have gone to something like the Kimbel Museum or the Amon Carter in Fort Worth or the Ney in San Antonio, but those sorts of field trips weren't in the cards, at least for third-graders from Highland.

It wasn't until the children had boarded the buses again at the Museum of the Southwest that the teachers relented and ended the no-talking rule. Daria expected non-stop chatter from Cuthbert Fink Nottle, but he was acting surprising subdued when he got back on the bus. Daria knew that he'd irritated Jack, Andy, and Joe Bob, but his arm looked unbruised; the clearly hadn't punched him in the arm to make him shut up.

"So what happened at the Permian Reef exhibit?" asked Daria.

"Don't you know?" said Jessie.

"No," said Daria. "This is the first chance I got to ask anyone what happened," said Daria.

Linda looked at her sideways and frowned. She did not want to think about what she'd seen.

"Well, it started at the display cases," said a girl sitting behind her. Daria turned around to look at her. It was Kimberly, Kimberly somebody, a girl who was in Mrs. Boaz's class. "All of a sudden a couple of the fish fossils came alive and started flip-flopping inside the display case. One moment they were like skeletons pressed into stone, the next moment they started inflating like balloons, and then they started flip-flopping like fish that had landed inside a bass boat."

"And that's not all!" said another girl. "You know those crab-thingies that that guy was showing, the ones on the cart?"

"The trilobites?" said Daria.

"Yeah, that's them," said the girl. All of a sudden they started doing the same thing and that's when a lot of the other kids lost it. I mean, come on, they _**did**_ start crawling towards the edges of the cart, but it's not like they had stingers or claws or anything. How dangerous are they?"

"Says you," said Kimberly. "I still think they could have been dangerous."

"Well I can't help it if you were wearing those open-toed girly-girl shoes," the second girl retorted. "I was wearing my cowgirl boots and I wanted to stomp them. If everybody hadn't started stampeding away, I would have, too."

Their conversation was interrupted by Ms. O'Meara, who decided that they were making too much noise.

"Shhhhh," she said.

-(((o-o)))-

Author's notes: The Petroleum Museum and the Museum of the Southwest are real places and are sited in the real-life Midland, Texas. I did take artistic license regarding their internal layout and displays.


	25. Chapter 25

Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years Museum Cover up

 _Daria_ is the creation of Glenn Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. Kimberley is a recurring background character on Beavis and Butthead and is also the property of MTV Viacom. _Harry Potter_ is the creation of JK Rowling and is the property of JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. I own none of them and neither expect nor deserve any financial compensation for this work. I am writing for my own amusement and ego gratification

Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years

Daria thought that a story like what happened at the Petroleum Museum would spread like wildfire: and so it did for a couple of days afterwards. It was the talk of James Ferguson Elementary School in the cafeteria, on the playground, in the bathrooms, and in the parking lot, then it began to rapidly die down. A lot of the kids who had been on the field trip either forgot about what had happened at the Permian Reef Exhibibit or forgot the details or occasionally remembered other things about it that Daria was pretty sure didn't happen, even if she'd missed seeing the flopping fish inside the display cases or the trilobites falling off the edges of the docent's cart and scurrying for cover.

Shortly after the third-graders returned to Highland, Principal Strong got a request purportedly from the Petroleum Museum's security staff to discuss possible damage to the items on display at the museum. Principal Strong did not believe that the museum's security staff had reason to talk to his children and balked at allowing the Museum's security staff access to them. But shortly after refusing, Principal Strong was forced to take sick leave for a couple of days, and Vice Principle Trimble took over. Principal Trimble promptly gave the Museum security staff permission to interview the children and see if they'd been traumatized by the event.

It was Daria's turn to be interviewed this morning. She was more than a little worried. Linda had emerged from her conference with the security guys from the museum the previous day feeling fuzzy and a little off-balance. Daria was disturbed to see that Jessie was a little shaky, too. She'd been glad that it had been late in the afternoon, and that they all went home by car.

Marshal James Dillon sat in a straight-back chair in the conference room. He did not like having anything to do with obliviation and memory-modification work. The Marshal was a strong, if private, believer in free will. However well-meaning Obliviators and Memory-modifiers might be, he still felt that their activities bordered on tampering with free will. Still, he was the man in charge of seeing to it that memories of the accidental magic at the Petroleum Museum in Midland were suppressed in the Highland-area Habanero community.

He was already concerned as to how this cover-up was going. Juno Vide had allowed a couple of intern Obliviators to interview several Habanero children and there had been reports of memory damage. James Dillon hated it when the undertrained and the incompetent were let loose in the field, especially when altering the memories of young children. But the damage was done, and he now realized that from here on out, unless he could be sure that the Obliviators and memory modification workers were truly professional, they'd have to be watched closely.

He looked over the list of interviewees. Today's names included two known magical children and another that had only recently been to the list. They were not to have their memories modified; instead, they'd be enjoined to follow the International Statutes of Secrecy and not discuss the incident any further with non-magicals.

Marshal Dillion decided that he'd deal with the third name on the list personally. He used his status as a Marshal for MACUSA and as head of this operation to sit in on the discussion with Daria Lynn Morgendorffer. In other circumstances, say if Marshal Dillon was _**certain**_ that Miss Morgendorffer had been a no-maj, he might have regretfully left her interview to the Obliviators. But the Morgendorffer girl wasn't just a Habanera; the MACUSA commissioner for the Sweetwater district, Buford Thorngrove, had received reports that the girl was supposed to be a witch. He should know; he himself had personally questioned Arcturus Black, head of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black, and Lord Black had claimed that the girl not only was a witch but was also his great-granddaughter. After his return to Britain, Lord Black offered to send the results of blood tests showing those ties; he accepted, and they were now on file in the Commisioner's Office in Sweetwater.

Marshal Dillon braced assistant Obliviator Karen Fogg before allowing the child to come in, warning her that he'd had at least a couple of informal reports that this girl was a magical, and should any memory-modification prove necessary, it should done with particular care.

The door opened and the girl came in. Marshal Dillon had no real idea as to what the half-blooded daughter of one of Britain's oldest wizarding families ought to look like, but he was pretty sure that the girl didn't look the part. The girl was of medium height for an eight year-old, not too tall, not too short. She had an oval face, with pale-skined, and auburn hair. She wore eye-glasses. In short, she didn't look much like anyone special, just a good-looking Anglo kid.

The girl sat down. She looked at him and at Karen Fogg with a wary expression. _Smart kid_ , he thought.

Marshal Dillon had set up a test beforehand. He wasn't especially knowledgeable or skilled when it came to wandless magic, but he had a crystal that could measure the presence and relative strength of a witch's or a wizard's magical core, and did know enough to do something that Habaneros would describe as psychokinesis. He had placed the crystal on the desk he'd be using beforehand, then gave the crystal a non-physical shove after the girl sat down. The crystal then started rolling towards the girl's edge of the desk, threatening to fall onto the floor. She caught it and handed it back to him. His crystal now had a reading. He suspected that he already knew the results. Even without performing the charms on the crystal that reveal the existence and strength of this girl's magical core, he now believed that this girl was part of the club. Some years from now, if and when he ever wrote his memoirs, he could now say that he met the heiress of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black in a small, shabby linoleum-floored conference room at James Ferguson Elementary School in Highland, Texas.

"So Miss Morgendorffer, could you please tell me about the events at the Permian Reef exhibit?" asked Ms. Fogg, the Obliviator assisting the interview.

"I didn't see or hear what happened at the exhibit," said the schoolgirl, looking at Ms. Fogg with her skeptical expression. "I was coming out of the restroom when it happened. Anything I'd tell you about what happened would be hearsay."

"Beg pardon?" said Ms. Fogg.

"Hearsay," the schoolgirl repeated.

"Sir, ma'am, my mother is an attorney," said the little girl. "She would say that anything I had to say about what happened at the Permian Reef Exhibit was hearsay. I didn't see or hear anything that happened at the Reef Exhibit except a bunch of kids yelling and running out of the room. Some of the kids on the schoolbus told me what they saw on the bus ride back to Highland, but I didn't see anything myself."

The schoolgirl gave a half-smile that reminded the Marshal of the Mona Lisa painting at the Louvre. "For that matter, most of the kids who were in the Permian Reef Exhibit didn't see what was going on, either. They were either too far away from the display cases, looking away, or had their view of the exhibit and cart blocked by other kids."

Marshal Dillon said nothing, but mentally started giving her points. The girl had made an excellent observation. He would discuss her comment about hearsay with the Obliviators; the girl had noted that a lot of the children and at least a couple of the adults present in the Exhibit area _hadn't_ seen what had happened inside the display cases or on the museum cart. Most of them, like Miss Morgendorffer, had only heard the description of events from the far smaller number of children who had actually witnessed what happened. That meant less memory-modification, less wand-work, and less risk of impairing the healthy development of young, growing minds.

Marshal Dillon decided that wittingly or not, Miss Morgendorffer had successfully altered the shape of the cover-up. He'd use her idea to inspire the Obliviators and members of the Memory-modification teams to use a lighter-handed approach.

The next morning, he came to work in Midland and was flagged down by his assistant. Jewel had a copy of _Tex Arcana_ , a weekly wizarding tabloid that covered news and doings in Texas and parts of the surrounding states. She'd opened it to page five. Marshal Dillon looked at the headlines and made an internal groan; the Petroleum Museum Incident had made the news. However well the coverup of the Petroleum Museum incident was going in the Habanero world, it was clear that the word about it was spreading far and wide within the magical community.

-(((o-o)))-

The English Perspective

London, UK: November, 1987

Arcturus Black and his mistress lay in the large bed in the master bedroom of his apartment overlooking Muggle London. _A splendid way to pass a rainy November morning_ , he thought.

Astarte was reading _Witch Weekly_ , something that made Arcturus smile. Usually Astarte avoided reading _Witch Weekly_. She liked to complain that _Witch Weekly_ 's contents and editorial slant were too plebian and too Muggle-friendly. Nevertheless, she'd clearly found something that engrossed her.

He looked over to see what she was reading. It was an article titled "What to Do If Your Children Were Caught Up in an Incident." From the subtitle below it, Arcturus realized that it had to do with wizarding children being caught up in situations where accidental magic had occurred and been observed by Muggles, whether or not they'd had anything to do with its release or not. Astarte, read the first page, flipped it, frowned at the advertisements occupying much of the second page of the article and all of the third, flipped the page again, and resumed reading. Arcturus noted briefly that there was an insert of some sort, but chose not to pay attention. Instead, he chose to watch the raindrops splatter against the skylight.

Sometimes he found the simple things enjoyable, and he enjoyed looking up at the large panes of the skylight and watching the patterns the fallen raindrops made as they splattered against the glass.

Astarte interrupted his contemplation of the raindrops. "Hello, dear, here's an article about something in Texas," she said. "Something about an incident in some place called Midland. You were there, weren't you?"

"Briefly," said Arcturus. "I didn't care for the place and left within a day."

"Could I see that article after you're done, please?"

"Certainly, dear," said Astarte. The thought of Arcturus Black reading _Witch Weekly_ amused her. Arcturus Black was very old-school and usually wouldn't be caught dead reading what he thought of as a woman's magazine.

He started reading it after Astarte retired to the bathroom to take a shower.

His mistress was correct. To his surprise, the insert was about an "Incident" that had occurred in Midland, at the Muggles' Petroleum Museum, recounting the incident and the reactions of the magical parties involved. He noted that the insert was an article originally published in _Tex Arcana_ , a wizarding publication that he supposed must originate in Texas.

The insert was illustrated. Arcturus looked at the caption for the first photograph. "School children and their teachers from a nearby Texas town before the release of accidental magic occurred." Arcturus noted that this was a Muggle photograph, what they called a "still." Idly he decided to study the photograph more closely, then to his startlement, he recognized several of the children in the picture. The Aldrete daughters stood out, He also recognized the young religious fanatic who'd ranted about his great granddaughter's cursing her. The young idiot from the Muggle clothing store was missing. He wondered if his great-granddaughter had also been on that eventful field trip that day and started searching for her. Sure enough, there she was, the Muggle photograph doing a surprisingly good job of capturing her expression: she looked irritated.

The article then went on to say that accidental magic had reanimated 260 million year-old fossils on display in the Permian Reef exhibit, leaving several ancient fish flopping around inside of a display case gasping for air and ancient trilobites scuttling for cover in corners and under exhibit cases. One of the latter was later found tangled up in the strands of a wet mop when the Muggle custodial staff set to cleaning it up. The article went on to describe the American magical government dispatching memory modification squads to treat the children and Marshals to try to identify the perpetrator. He worried that his great granddaughter might have been responsible for the incident, but was relieved to learn that it was a hitherto-unrecognized young wizard of entirely Muggle descent. The article described some of the magical parents' reactions, as well as those of some of the magical children who'd been caught up in the incident. What the Morgendorffers thought about the incident the article did not say.

-(((o-o)))—

Author's notes: Daria Ravenclaw is written from a Daria fan's perspective. I use terms like Marshal to describe characters' rolls that aren't familiar to people who aren't Potter fans.

Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years, its sequels, and its side stories are set in an alternate universe, one different from canon Harry Potter and also different from canon Daria. Petunia Snaps is NOT set in the same alternate universe as Daria Ravenclaw.

A habanero or habanera is a slang for a non-magical humans term used in the southwestern US and northern Mexico. The events of Daria Ravenclaw take place roughly sixty years after the events of the first Fantastic Beaasts and Where to Find Them movie, and show some of the changes that occurred in the wizarding world since the mid-1920's. It's another way of saying Muggle.

 _Tex Arcana_ was a graphic novel that appeared in Heavy Metal magazine in the early 1980's. My fan fiction has no ties to the graphic novel other than using its title for a wizarding tabloid published in the Lone Star State.


	26. Chapter 26

DAR Changes and Changes of Seasons 1987

 _Daria_ is the creation of Glenn Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. _Harry Potter_ is the creation of JK Rowling and is the property of JK Rowling and Warner Brothers, as are its characters and situations. I don't own them, and neither expect nor deserve financial compensation for this story. I am writing for my own amusement and for ego gratification.

Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years* Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years.

Highland, Texas Late September, 1987

Late in September, Daria, Jessie, and Linda decided to get together and go to the movies. _The Princess Bride_ had recently opened at the Highland Glen Theater and they all went to catch the early evening showing. The Highland Glen was an older movie house that was trying to stay competitive in a changing market that included multi-channel cable networks and videotapes. It had been built with a downstairs and an upstairs balcony. It had been rebuilt with the upstairs balcony now serving as a separate theater.

The girls watched _The Princess Bride_ through from beginning to end. Afterwards they practiced some of the more memorable lines on each other at the burger and soda place next door and on the drive home.

"I am Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die!" shouted Jessie.

"I am Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die!" shouted Linda.

"I am Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die!" said Daria in a low voice that only carried a little menace.

"Aw, Daria, try it again," said Jessie. "It's more fun when you're being theatrical about it! Be Inigo, not Clint Eastwood!"

Daria dreamed about _The Princess Bride_ that evening. Somehow, she'd been inserted into Inigo's role, but instead of facing the Count, she found herself facing a wild-haired older woman with dark, white-streaked hair pointing a wand at her instead of a rapier. Like Inigo but unlike the wild-haired woman, Daria t carried a rapier. Daria thought that would be sufficient, but the wild-haired woman pointed her wand at her, emitting a green beam of light. The light hit her and she went down.

She woke up and decided that rapiers weren't the right kind of weapon for the situation.

Seeing _The Princess Bride_ was the girls' last joint movie date. They did get together to help Jessie and Dale get ready for the Markhams' move to Plano. That Sunday evening, they managed to get Mrs. Hurd to drive them to a strip mall and they enjoyed ice cream and milkshakes.

For some reason Daria's brain refused to let the self-inserted Inigo Montoya scene with the wild-haired woman go. This time, she was holding a wand. Again, she went down. She woke up and shuddered. Was this one of her weird dreams that came true, or was it just a regular dream about _The Princess Bride_? Daria went back to sleep and again found herself facing the wild-haired woman with a wand in her hand. Somehow, she sensed that she was with friends, and this time, the woman went down instead of her. Somehow, Daria knew that the wild-haired woman was dead.

The Markhams left two days afterwards. They said goodbye in the late afternoon after school. Jake, Helen, and all three Morgendorffer girls were there to see them off, as did Linda and a couple of Jessie's other friends. Russ, Audrey, Jessie and Dale got into their car and started it. Daria watched with a teary Quinn as the Markhams' car turned left and headed for the Interstate, where Russ would get on the eastbound Interstate 20 entry ramp and start driving towards Plano. Daria did not give herself to having a full-blown cry like either of her two sisters. That wasn't her way; instead she found herself blinking tears away as one of her best friends drove out of her life.

Two nights later, she again found herself facing the wild-haired woman in her dreams, only this time Daira found herself holding a Baretta. Daria started shooting before the woman had a chance to complete her wand work and down went her opponent. Daria was not a religious girl, but she prayed she never met that wild-haired older woman. She made a note to herself that should she ever hear that the evil woman really existed, she'd remember to check Highland's gun stores first and then, if she was able to drive by then, visit Mrs. Snavely's place in Tuna.

The Markhams' departure created a hole in Daria's life. She liked Gail and Farrah and the other girls she'd met at the ballet class, but she could talk about things with Jessie that she didn't feel comfortable talking about with other girls he age. Gail was outgoing and athletic, Farrah only somewhat less so, but neither girl was interested in what Daria had heard grown-ups describe as the life of the mind.

The same couldn't be said for Quinn. While Quinn was saddened by Dale's move to Plano, she had been making friends with her classmates..

A few days later, Daria was still wondering about how the holes in her life were going to be filled when her mother got a phone call from Mrs. Rowe. "Can my daughter Stacy carpool with your girls?" she asked.

Stacy Rowe was able to fit into the Morgendorffer carpool with room to spare. Daria's final break with Linda came almost immediately after the Markhams' departure for Plano, accompanied by a major blowup. Linda not only listed all her old resentments with Daria, but also accused Daria of doing something to her mind after the field trip to the Petroleum Museum in Midland. She told Daria to not to call her anymore and to stay away from her. Linda's break with Daria baffled their parents: Linda's mother was just as baffled about her daughter's new antipathy towards Daria as were Helen and Jake. Mrs. Hurd tried, but she was unable to sway her daughter's decision.

Linda ending their friendship hurt. Daria wasn't sure if there was any one triggering event, or if their friendship had been doomed for months. Linda had been turning away from her for months, but it looked like they'd managed some sort of cease-fire, or what the newspapers called a détente, because they both cared for Jessie. But now Jessie was gone and so was Linda's friendship.

For a while Daria would occasionally look over in Linda's direction and hope that Linda would reconsider, but Linda didn't. After weeks, despite her memories and her hurt, Daria began to be able to see Linda as just one of the other girls at Ferguson Elementary. Just one of the other girls.

Still, even if Daria's friendship with Linda had broken up, she wasn't totally isolated. Gail had invited her to a Halloween party. Farrah had invited her out to her cousin's ranch to visit the goats, and Daria was coming to realize that she was coming to like Mr. Skein.

Daria decided to act on one of the last bits of advice she'd gotten from Jessie and do something about getting a Halloween costume. The mega-stores hadn't run all of the small stores out of Highland's main street; Mrs. Stitching's Highland Masquerade store was one of the survivors. Mrs. Stitchings warned Daria that she'd had trouble selling those Wonder Woman costumes; a lot of people had tried them on and had discovered that they didn't fit. But Daria decided that as silly as the idea of her being Wonder Woman might be, this once she'd take a chance. She put on the costume and it not only fit, it fitted well. She turned around to look in the dressing room mirror and if the costume wasn't as daring as Linda Carter's, for a brief moment she looked at her reflection and saw Wonder Woman looking back at her.

Quinn was less impressed than Daria about Daria's Wonder Woman costume. Quinn thought that Daria should have tried for a more daring costume like the ones Wonder Woman wore in the comics or on television.

Although Daria seldom let Quinn's fashion critiquing get to her, this time it did. Was her costume too frumpy? Should she have been more daring? Whatever Quinn might say, Daria decided that she wasn't going to let her younger sister's critiquing get to her. She did make one improvement; she found some gold twine that her parents had bought to wrap Christmas presents and borrowed twenty feet. Now she had a lasso just like Wonder Woman's.

Despite her public display of confidence, Daria secretly worried all the way to Gail's house that that Quinn might be right about her choice of Wonder Woman costume. Once she got inside, she was relieved to learn that people at the party didn't really care all that much. True, Daria's costume wasn't as daring as what some teenagers and grown-ups might wear, but she definitely stepped out of her normal persona. In fact, one of Gail's older friends did ask her if her glasses were part of her costume. The girl didn't make a big deal about it after Daria replied that they weren't, that she needed them to see.

Daria's squabble with Quinn about costumes disappeared shortly after Halloween. Quinn was content to stop talking about Halloween costumes after she had showed off pictures of her own costume and her friends had shown her theirs. Quinn still thought that Daria's Wonder Woman could have been a little more daring, but her older sister was of the opinion that it was good enough.

-(((O-O)))-

Daria started to have strange dreams in mid-November. They were mostly about a dark-haired English boy named Harry. Harry lived in a two-story house with his step-parents. Daria didn't know just where in England Harry lived, but guessed that it was a suburb of London: _An English Plano_ , she thought sardonically. The houses weren't like the ones she was used to in Highland; instead they looked like they were all pressed together and looked even more alike. At first, Daria had thought that Harry would live either in the same room with the Dursleys' son Dudley or have a room of his own. She was shocked to learn that Harry lived in a closet under the stairs. She then learned that the adults in Harry's house weren't his real parents but his aunt and uncle. She guessed that Harry's Aunt Petunia must be the one related to Harry's real nephew; the fact that she could treat her own flesh and blood that badly made her angry.

This is wrong, she thought. _How could_ anyone _treat a kid that way_?


	27. Chapter 27

Daria Ravenclaw The Dreams of November Part One

Daria is the creation of Glenn Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. Harry Potter is the creation of JK Rowling and is the property of JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. I own neither and neither expect nor deserve financial compensation for this story. I am writing for my own amusement and ego gratification.

Author's note: _Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years_ is NOT part of the _Harry Potter Morgendorffer_ stories or to my _Petunia Snaps_ story.

Rated "T" for language. But then again, Highland IS Beavis and Butthead territory

Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years

Harry:

Little Whinging, Surrey, UK

It was after Halloween and Harry Potter started having strange dreams. It wasn't like he hadn't had strange dreams before: he'd dreamed about a loving mother's voice talking to him, a face that leaned over his crib and called him "Harry" and "Son" and another, fatherly voice that called him "Prongslet,"and another about a flying motorcycle. He'd also had horrible dreams: ones featuring a cold, hateful voice, a woman pleading and begging, a cold hateful voice, and flashes of green light, one of which hit his head and _ **hurt.**_

These dreams were different: they were all about the oldest of three schoolgirls who lived far away in America. And not just anywhere in America, but in Texas. Harry thought these were odd things to dream about. He was a boy, after all, and why should he dream about three little girls in Texas, of all places? Harry didn't think he had much in common with girls here in Britain, let alone girls so far away. Girls were a different tribe. True, he went to school with them, but he didn't really understand them. He might have believed that the dreams had something to do with magic, or that the girls were magical or something, at least if he believed in magic. But magic wasn't real; his aunt and uncle told him so.

Harry wished he had some control over these dreams: the older girl wasn't that interesting. He would have liked to follow her younger sister Quinn around instead. To his chagrin, he discovered that the only control he had while the dreams were going on was to wake up and stay awake until daybreak. Doing that left him exhausted and even more vulnerable to the barbs and torment he got from his aunt, his uncle, and his cousin Dudley. In the end, Harry decided to make the best of it and live with the dreams; he needed his sleep and dreaming about the girls was more interesting than life on Privet Drive.

The three girls lived in a single-story wooden-framed house that looked very little like the solid brick houses on Privet Drive. They had a bigger yard to play in than he did, although they didn't use it much. The chores were allotted differently: the oldest girl didn't cut the grass like he did, that was something her dad did. Their Dad was the one who cooked, although he often ruined dinner and they ate a lot of take-out.

He wasn't sure what he thought of their parents. Their father was a bit of a nutter. Sometimes he'd yell the way Uncle Vernon did, but never at his daughters. It was a little scary and a little funny to listen to the man (Harry learned that his name was Jake) rant about _**his**_ father, the American government, and sometimes about stuff he read about in the newspaper or on television. Still, whether he was a nutter or not, Harry thought he could learn to like the man. It was clear that he loved his wife and his children and he tried to be a good father as best as he knew how. Harry wondered what it would be like to have him as a Dad.

The Mum was different from Aunt Petunia. Harry thought she was prettier. She was also more distant. Harry was a little surprised to learn that she was a lawyer. She was often distracted; she put a lot of time into her work. But she was at least occasionally there for her daughters, and she wasn't contemptuous or belittling as his aunt.

The dreams ended when he found himself standing alone in a foggy clearing in the middle of a dark forest. A figure came out of some fog at the edge of the clearing and he could see that it was the oldest girl.

"Who are you?" said Harry, his mouth open as if he was seeing her for the first time.

"I'm Daria," she said. "Who are you?" she asked.

"I'm Harry," He blushed.

"Stop following me around," said the girl. "It's creepy."

He did. To his surprise he found that he was a little sad. She wasn't that likable a person but he liked her anyway.

Dudley

Dudley Dursley had what he thought was a pretty good life. He did have a freak cousin named Harry, but he'd come to accept that if it wasn't for the freak, he'd have to run most of the chores. His Mum and his Da let him do pretty much what he wanted. The only places where Mum and Da put their foot down was that they forbade him to watch programs with sex and horror movies. He'd been caught watching a horror movie once and had been sent straight to his room. He could half-understand why they didn't want him watching sex movies, but he had no idea why they were even more bonkers when it came to horror movies.

Still, there were ways around his parents' prohibition. His friend Gordon's parents had a television with a video player, and Gordon's Mum and Dad didn't care whether young Gordon watched horror movies or not. As a matter of fact, Gordon's Da had even joined them a couple of times.

Dudley's gang had learned that talking about horror movies and Dudley's parents together was not a good idea. Malcolm made the mistake of wondering out loud as to why Dudley's parents worried so much about horror movies; Dudley rewarded with a good hard swat. Gordon and Piers took the hint; that was NOT something that Dudley wanted to talk about. Dudley's lesson reinforced, the boys put the videotape in the VCR and the boys watched the movie from beginning to end.

The boys found a particularly gruesome movie about a witch who abducted children and fed them to her demon familiar. The rush of fear was exciting, and Dudley also got to enjoy his friends' reaction.

That night Dudley fell asleep and dreamed. He found himself standing in a foggy clearing in the middle of some dark, spooky woods. It was spooky and a bit exhilarating. This sort of thing _never_ happened back at Privet Drive, even with his weird cousin Harry.

He heard a couple of owls hooting as well as some sort of night birds, but that wasn't the scariest part of his dream. The scariest part was a chorus of what Dudley guessed were womens' voices; their voices were too low to be little girls' voices. The womens' chorus didn't talk so much as they whispered and they kept saying the same thing over and over again: "Blood will call blood, Blood will call blood, Blood will call blood, Blood will call blood, Blood will call blood."

Dudley looked around the foggy clearing at the scary-looking trees and smirked. No grave stones, no giant snakes. He was alone there and there weren't any creepy-crawlies or jumping boogie-men to grab him. _This is boring for a horror movie_ , he thought. Dudley turned back in the other direction and realized that he was no longer alone. But instead of a walking skeleton or a tall, ugly, green-skinned hag waving her broomstick at him, he saw a short, red-haired girl wearing an orange tee shirt and shorts frowning at him in disapproval.

"Who are you?" he said.

"I'm Daria," she said.

"I know who you are," she said. "You're Harry's cousin Dudley. I know _**what**_ you are, too."

"You ***hole" she said. "You're disgusting. You're an overblown, gutless piece of #%^^+!"

Dudley saw red. Nobody talked to him that way. Nobody. Ever.

What should he do to her? He thought about it, and realized that nobody else was there to see what he did to her. He started towards her to swat her for her lip.

He swung at the girl to give her a smack for giving him lip, and his hand went right through her.

"Butt muncher," she said with loathing. "You're still a turd in trousers," she added contemptuously.

Dudley took another swing at her and the palm of his hand again went through her. She looked at him with loathing and disgust, then stuck out her tongue and blew him a long, wet raspberry. He stepped forward to kick her when he suddenly noticed the something was dragging at his knees. He woke up to find himself lying on his back in his bedroom on Privet Drive.

He saw her twice more on subsequent nights. He thought about telling his Mum and Da about the girl, then realized that if he did so, he might have to tell about watching horror movies over at Gordon's and decided against it.

He didn't want to think about the dream or the girl, but he did remember the names she'd called him. He used them at school and was sent to the headmaster's office for using foul language.

Vernon

Vernon dreamt that he was far away. He wasn't sure just where it was, just that it was dry and hot in the summer. Pakistan, North Africa? He thought he saw a signpost and started walking over to read it. To his surprise there was someone standing along the path, a little girl, no more than eight or nine. She scowled at him in displeasure.

She was trying to tell him something, and she was angrier and angrier than he couldn't hear her. It was something he might have laughed about later if he'd ever chosen to talk about it. But Vernon Dursley hated and feared magic, even if it was only an increasingly-frustrated eight-year old girl trying to talk to him. The girl made one last attempt to say something, then gave him the American one-fingered salute. It might have been funny, but at that very moment, whatever obstacle that prevented her from actually talking to him collapsed, and he heard her for the first and last time in his dreams.

"What we have here," she said, "is a failure to communicate."

He was about to tell her off for being a rude, insolent little girl but woke up in bed with Petunia before he could do so.

Petunia

Petunia Dursley was dreaming. She'd slept well; she'd had several weeks of dreams that didn't include that awful boy from the park, Lily, or wizards, light or dark. She had had forebodings; forebodings that her late-night dreams might not remain so peaceful for much longer. Despite what she'd told Vernon, Dudley, and that awful James Potter's get, she still occasionally read horoscopes. One of them said that she'd have unpleasant dreams.

Tonight she thought that her horoscope might be right, after all. She found herself standing in an empty lot bounded by chain link fencing on a couple of sides and uneven paving on the other. There was a street beyond the sidewalk, and she noticed a couple of cars driving by on the wrong side of the road. The lot was unkempt, where it wasn't parched red earth, it was overgrown by light-green grass. Some of the grasses had thorny little burrs than stuck to her stockings.

 _Was she in Spain?_ No, one of the lorries had writing in English. Was she in America? What was she doing there? If so, what was she doing there?

She looked back towards the other side of the lot. There was a young girl standing there. The girl's clothing looked rather common. She was wearing a burnt orange tee shirt with some organization's logo and shorts that almost went down to the knee. Petunia worried that it might be a dream about Lily; that made her take a closer look at the girl. It wasn't Lily, the girl was shorter, and the lines of her cheeks and jaw were different. But despite the fact that the girl wasn't Lily, she shared Lily's auburn hair and pale complexion. She wore her hair long like Lily did, but she wore eyeglasses.

The girl stared at her in strong disapproval. It was an unsettling look, one that would have done credit to some of her old teachers back in Cokeworth. A thought came to her. Was this girl one of _them_?

"Go away, little girl," said Petunia.

"Why should I?" the girl replied. Her accent was strange—definitely un-English.

"Because this is my dream in my bed," said Petunia, using her friend Yolande's best dismissive tone of voice.

"So where's your bed?" asked the girl.

"My bed's in my house in Surrey!" Petunia said indignantly.

"This is my dream and this is West Texas," the girl retorted. The girl's pronunciation sounded barbarous. Her "you" sounded like yew and her "there" sounded like they-ur.

West Texas, thought Petunia. Codswallop. Then she heard the sound of a motor start up and looked over to the side see an ungainly-looking pump begin to go up and down and up and down on the other side of the chain link fence.

"You should mind your own business and stay out of mine!" said Petunia. "I don't like you spying on me!"

"I see what I see," the girl retorted. "And I just plain don't like you."

Petunia thought that that was enough to make the girl mind her, but it wasn't enough. Surely the little guttersnipe had enough good sense to obey her elders. Instead the girl smirked at her and started singing.

"The Eyes of Texas are upon you,  
All the live-long day.  
The Eyes of Texas are upon you,  
You cannot get away

Can't you see the eyeballs staring  
From night til early in the morn  
The eyes of Texas are upon you  
'til Gabriel blows his horn!

It was the smirk at the end of the girl's song that did it. Petunia lost her temper and decided to give this impudent girl a good hard smack. She started walking towards the urchin, then, to her consternation she tripped and fell onto her stomach. The girl continued to look at her with strong disapproval. The girl wasn't alone; Petunia saw a lizard about the size of a large child's mitten a couple of feet away from her. The lizard stared at her, deciding what to make of her. Petunia watched the lizard briefly stick out its tongue at her.

"Get away from me, you filthy creature!" said Petunia. She reached out her hand to swat the creature away.

Instead of turning to run away, the lizard skittered forward, jumping forward onto her shoulder, then ran diagonally across her back, jumping from the small of her back back onto the grass and skitter away to safety.

Petunia was so incensed that she swung her arm to swat the filthy creature and banged her hand on the headboard. With that, she woke up and found herself back in bed in Surrey.

Her movement woke up her husband.

"Tuney?" said Uncle Vernon sleepily.

"A bad dream," said Petunia.

"About the boy?" he said.

"No, not him.

"Your sister?" he asked.

"No," said Petunia. "About one of her friends, although I don't remember ever seeing her before."


	28. Chapter 28

Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years. Caulking the Gaps

Daria is the creation of Glenn Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. Harry Potter is the creation of JK Rowling and is the property of JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. I own neither, and neither expect nor deserve financial compensation for this story. I am writing for my own amusement and for ego gratification.

I enjoy ego gratification. Please write a nice review.

Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years

The next morning Petunia decided to have a talk with Vernon.

"Vernon, did you have a dream about a little girl named Daria?" asked Petunia.

"I didn't have a dream about anyone named Daria, Pet," said Vernon. "I do remember a dream with a little girl who looked at me and said "What we have here is a failure to communicate." Why do you ask?"

"I did," said Petunia. "A little girl who looked like she was eight or nine years old, with spectacles and auburn hair. Is that what the girl in your dreams looked like?"

Vernon remained silent for a long time. He was the man of the house and he was the one who was supposed to deal with alarms and intruders breaking in, but here he was out of his depth. He'd thought that he'd had an ordinary dream. But Pet had dreams about the little girl too. This had to be something his late sister-in-law's sort did. He wanted to blame the boy for it, and for two pennies, he'd thrash him for it if he thought he was to blame. But this was different. Clearly this was something that came from outside the house.

"I can't deal with it," he said. "If you still know any of your sister's set, see if you can get one of _them_ to plug the hole." He went downstairs in a bad mood. "If you can, try to set an appointment for when I'm at work. I don't want to watch."

At breakfast, Petunia asked both Harry and Dudley if they'd had dreams about a little girl named Daria. Surprisingly, both boys denied it. Even more surprisingly, Petunia could tell that not just Harry, but both boys were lying.

A couple of days later, Petunia got a telephone call from the Headmaster of Dudley's school. Dudley had been sent to the office for using foul language.

She went to the Headmaster's office to resolve the issue. A thoroughgoing administrator, he'd written down some of the choice phrases and provided a sheet copy with the words written out. Despite her pleas and her insistence that her darling Dudders would never use such language, the headmaster was unmoved. Dudley would serve two detentions.

After school, Petunia picked up Dudley and told Harry to walk home. Now with privacy, Petunia felt free to question her son. "Answer me truthfully, Dudley," she said. "Who taught you those words?"

"I dunno," said Dudley, acting as if he'd never thought that what he did was offensive. "Like I heard them on the street."

"Codswallop," said Petunia. "Nobody uses that language here in Surrey. Who taught you those words?"

She expected Dudley to say that Harry had or perhaps someone from away, but Dudley was so startled by his Mum's change of tone that he said "Daria."

Petunia's eyes went wide.

"Daria who?" she said.

"Dunno," said Dudley. "I only saw her a couple of times. Red hair, short, eye-glasses."

When Harry got home, she decided that it was his turn to answer some questions. Despite the fact that he didn't like his cousin and despite the fact that his cousin treated him badly, for some reason or other, Harry was unwilling to talk about Daria. It was only after Petunia told him that Dudley had informed her about his visits that he opned up and said that he had visited her and that she lived in someplace called Highland.

Still angry that Dudley had lied to her and that Harry had dragged his feet about telling about the girl, Petunia sent him directly to his cupboard.

Now armed with the information that the girl had visited all four occupants of Four Privet Drive, Petunia sat down to do what she least wanted to do. She sat down and wrote Albus Dumbledore.

His response came a few days later. Dumbledore's response came first with an owl, then with an actual visit. Petunia thanked her lucky stars that she'd thought of sending Harry to Mrs. Figg's beforehand. She did not want the two of them to meet.

To her surprise, Professor Dumbledore seemed to be dressed in a proper three-piece suit when he knocked on her door and she let him in. He was carrying something that looked very much like a large ceramic bowl under his arm. Petunia wished he'd done something about his beard; then he'd look respectable, something normal. Once he came inside and the door closed behind him, she discovered that his suit was an illusion and that he was dressed in wizarding robes.

Dumbledore politely greeted her, complimented her on her garden, complimented her again on her décor, telling her that it suited her, and then asked her about Harry's whereabouts. Petunia blandly told him that he was over at a neighbor's and Professor Dumbledore seemed to accept her explanation. She hoped he wasn't reading her mind.

He then turned the subject to the astral visits of the young witch.

"Do you remember seeing any details about the girl?" said Professor Dumbledore, in his Father Christmas persona. Petunia hated him for it.

"Well, the witch was about eight or nine years old, relatively short, with long auburn hair. She wore eyeglasses," said Petunia. "She was also wearing an orange tee shirt and shorts. Her shirt had some sort of Latin mottos on it."

"There are a lot of Latin words, Mrs. Dursley," Professor Dumbledore replied.

Petunia glowered at Professor Dumbledore. _Teach your grandmother to suck eggs_ , she thought.

"I've talked to the boys, both my son and my nephew. Both of them admitted that the girl had visited them too." Harry said," she couldn't believe that she said Harry, but some subterfuge was necessary, "that the girl was named Daria and that she lived in someplace called Highland."

"I see," said Professor Dumbledore. "Well, this revelation would certainly thin down the list of suspects, assuming we can confirm it."

"If I may make the use of your dining room table," he said, "we can discover more about this Daria."

Petunia suspected that he already knew who the girl might be, and that he already knew more than he was willing to tell her. Still, she wanted the visits stopped, even if it meant being an unwilling player in his games.

"I'd like to put a couple of towels underneath it so your bowl won't scratch the surface," said Petunia.

"By all means, Mrs. Dursley," said Professor Dumbledore.

Petunia came back a couple of minutes later with a couple of bath towels. She set them on the table.

Professor Dumbledore then set his portable pensieve on top of the towels. Petunia made a note to herself to burn the towels later.

"What now?" Petunia said nervously.

"First you need to sit down and close your eyes," said Professor Dumbledore "Then I want you to think about the dream and what you can remember about it."

Petunia followed Professor Dumbledore's instructions. Her eyes closed, she first started thinking about the dream with the girl, then noted that it seemed to be disappearing from her memory. With her eyes shut, she was unable to see Professor Dumbledore transfer the silver thread of memory from her skull to the Pensieve on the dining room table.

"Mrs. Dursley, you can open your eyes now. If you would, please stand up and come over to the table?"

Petunia did, and was surprised to see that the bowl now seemed filled with some sort of liquid.

"What would you like me to do next?" she said.

"Just look into the bowl," said Professor Dumbledore.

Petunia looked in and then felt the sensation of being drawn into the bowl, followed by the sensation of falling. She landed without pain, stood up, dusted herself off, then found herself standing again in that small, dreary lot seeing the auburn-haired girl and a duplicate Petunia.

"What now?" she said.

"Now we watch," said Professor Dumbledore.

Petunia saw a duplicate of herself. She also saw the girl and tried to call to her.

"She can't hear us," said Professor Dumbledore. "Neither of them can hear us."

"Then why are we here?" asked Petunia.

"To observe and note details," said Professor Dumbledore.

Professor Dumbledore and Petunia walked over to where they were behind and to the side of the other Petunia, but facing the girl.

"Look," said Professor Dumbledore, " you can see the motto on the girl's tee shirt."

Petunia looked where the Professor was pointed and realized that she could. Something Latin all right.

"Disciplina-Praesidium-Civitatis" Petunia said to herself. "Disciplina, Praesidium, Civitatis" she repeated. She repeated the motto twice more so she wouldn't forget it. She cast a sideways glance at Professor Dumbledore, who seemed to be engrossed with the landscape of the little witch's dreary little town, seeing who knew what.

"We can leave now," said Professor Dumbledore. "I think we have discovered all that we need to learn here."

"Can you tell me anything about the motto?" asked Petunia.

"It doesn't seem to be the motto of any wizarding school I recognize," said Professor Dumbledore. "Nor does it seem to be the motto of any wizarding family I can think of. This may necessitate some research. I will be in touch with you later."

"Do you have any idea who the witch might be, and can you get her to stop?" Petunia asked anxiously.

"I have my suspicions," said Professor Dumbledore. "I believe the girl is much as she appears, an eight or nine year-old girl from Texas."

"What do you want to do with the memory?" asked Professor Dumbledore.

Petunia wanted nothing better than to see it gone, but decided that binning it might not be the best thing to do. "I'll keep it, thank you," she said grudgingly.

Professor Dumbledore returned her memory to her, politely said good-bye, and then left.

He wrote her a letter, that appeared below her mail slot a few days later.

Dear Mrs. Dursley,

I hope you are well.

"I have done some research in regard to the motto you saw on that little girl's tee shirt. The motto is not one used by any wizarding family and has nothing to do with any wizarding school. You may be relieved to know that the institution that does use that motto is the University of Texas at Austin, a muggle school of higher learning. One of their songs is The Eyes of Texas."

"I have discovered that the young girl is much as you and your nephew have described: an eight year-old girl from Texas. If it sets your mind at ease, she is not related to you."

"Up until a short time ago, I was at a loss as to how the witch was able to circumvent the wards I'd placed around your dwelling. I have since discovered that she was able to do so because of a fluke I hadn't anticipated while setting the rune stones; the young lady is connected by blood to the master of the house. In your case, that would be your husband Vernon's blood-line. I will send someone over to make the appropriate patch. The girl will no longer be able to penetrate the wards after the patch has been set in place."

Cordially yours,

Albus Dumbledore

-(((O-O)))-

The doorbell rang. She opened the door and discovered to her horror that it was a tall man with dark eyes and long, straight, greasy black hair dressed in black, someone she wanted to see even less than Professor Dumbledore.

"Hallo, Tuney," he said.

Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years

Author's notes: Despite the fact that JK Rowling didn't use astral projection, I thought it would be fun to see what would happen if Daria Morgendorffer could see what really went on at Four Privet Drive, and what Petunia Dursley would think of Highland, Texas. For those who need a reminder, my version of Highland is loosely based on the real-life community of Big Spring, deep in West Texas.

I have also touched on the strains of wizarding blood on Daria's mother's side of the family elsewhere in this series. I decided that it would be fun to not only have Daria related to the Blacks on her father's side, but also, howbeit distantly, to Vernon Dursley on her mother's.


	29. Chapter 29

Daria Ravenclaw Highland November 1987

It was now mid-November. Quinn's seventh birthday was coming up soon, and Quinn was already deep into the planning process of how she wanted to celebrate it. She would have liked to have gone to Six Flags, but both Helen and Jake vetoed the long drive to the Arlington, Texas amusement park; Quinn would have to celebrate her birthday in Highland. Despite the setback, Quinn had already made ambitious plans featuring games and a clown and a list of guests that not only included her friends, but also people she wanted to impress.

Daria stayed out of the party planning process. She and her middle sister were already learning that they had different tastes when it came to music and clothes. As far as she was concerned, this was her sister's birthday party, and Quinn could do most of the planning and what footwork primary schoolers could do beforehand. She did make one promise to herself; as irritating as Quinn could sometimes be, there wasn't going to be a repeat of Nancy Carrew's antics this time. She'd grit her teeth and help stand watch.

As the countdown to Quinn's party continued, Daria occasionally noticed that she had a more time on her hands than she did last year, despite her friendships with Gail and Farrah. It took little thought to remember why; there were no more ballet classes. The Art Council made a couple of attempts to attract a new dance teacher, but gave up after they found no takers: the handful of candidates either decided that Highland was too small or too remote, or that the salary the council offered was too low.

Quinn's birthday party went off about ten days later. Daria thought that the house was crowded when she had her birthday party back in April. Quinn's party wasn't just crowded, but packed. Quinn's friends had almost all shown up, as did many of the people she wanted to impress. Quinn moved through the crowd of admirers like a butterfly fluttering through a garden of spring flowers, usually spending just enough time to greet the people who came through the door and to thank them for coming.

Of course Quinn's party featured music. Daria had to grudgingly give Sis credit; there was some kid rock mixed in with the regular pop music, but it was better-quality kid rock music. She learned later that her subconscious mind had been sufficiently impressed that she found herself humming a couple of the tunes a couple of days later while she was running chores.

Quinn's party had a clown instead of croquet for entertainment. Most of his jokes were lame, but Daria had to admit that a couple of his routines weren't bad. The clown had also borrowed from stage magicians and successfully convinced Quinn's guests that he'd found eggs hidden behind their ears, mended cut scarves, and could identify which playing cards the small girls could pick out of his giant card deck. It almost made up for his squirting her with water from the oversized flower he'd pinned to his lapel.

After the clown's performance, Quinn's friends gathered around as Quinn's birthday cake was brought out and Quinn prepared to blow out the candles.

"Make a wish, Quinn!" chorused her friends.

"Money!" said Annette.

"More clothes!" said Juliette.

 _What I'd_ really _like for my birthday is my own room_ , thought Quinn. She wanted to shout it out to her party crowd, but her friend Marti had told her that it was bad luck to do so unless she blew out all the candles on her cake.

Quinn took a deep breath. She then tried to blow out the candles on her cake, but a couple lit up again, forcing her to make two more tries. Daria thought that it might be more weird stuff, but didn't learn until later that someone had set non-magical trick candles in Quinn's cake.

The party ended late in the afternoon and the exhausted guests went home. Daria stayed behind to help with the clean-up. As annoying as Quinn could be, Quinn's party went off well without any accidents or any incidents, and Daria was happy for her sister. At bed time, Daria was feeling mellow enough to say "Happy Birthday, Sis," before she went off to sleep.

A couple of days later, Helen called a family meeting to discuss what they'd do for Thanksgiving, which was coming up in less than ten days. Helen had a conference and wasn't sure she'd be able to put in the time to make a proper Thanksgiving dinner. Jake was none too sure he could, either, but he did have a suggestion.

"The Temple is having a potluck Thanksgiving dinner," said Jake. "We could go to that."

Helen thought it over. She wasn't Jewish, her daughters had been baptized, but the idea of attending services at a synagogue didn't bother her. She felt she was open-minded and besides even long-ago Sunday school teachers had told her that Jesus had started preaching in synagogues when he was a boy.

"Why not?" she said.

On Thanksgiving morning, Jake, Helen, and all three Morgendorffer girls found themselves at the front door of the synagogue. Jake introduced Helen and his daughters to the rabbi, David Tallman.

"And this is my wife Helen, and my daughters Daria, Quinn, and Veronica," he said.

The Morgendorffers then found seats in the pews and sat down. Daria looked around and recognized some of the kids in school. They looked more surprised to see her and her family in temple than she was to see them. Except for Jake, none of the Morgendorffers were particularly religious, and even Jake wasn't hard-core.

Helen found the service different from the religious services she usually went to, but it didn't bother her. The rabbi gave a sermon on Thanksgiving and reasons for Thanksgiving in their lives. Despite the fact that he and his congregation were Jews, he did mention the Pilgrims' first Thanksgiving, but also discussed both the return of the Jews from captivity in Babylon and also how so many Jews came to America and found refuge from the bigotry and persecution they'd endured in the Old World. He then went on to talk about reasons for thanksgiving in their personal lives and made a prayer of thanksgiving for the following year.

After the service was over and Helen made a hasty trip to her car to retrieve her family's contribution to the potluck, the Morgendorffers joined the rabbi and the congregation over at the meeting hall where supper was going to be served. After the rabbi made another prayer, both Temple regulars and guests sat down to eat.

Helen had brought a vegetable casserole. Normally she didn't cook, but Mrs. Collins caught her coming down off some stress at work and told her to find something relaxing to do. Helen remembered that in the brief time she'd been flirting with the idea of moving to the Iowa commune, she'd found preparing some of her dishes could take a little of the edge off. She'd taken a half-day off and spent part of it preparing her old vegetable casserole recipe.

To her relief, the vegetable casserole went over well. The people at the synagogue liked it, and at least one of the other wives complimented her on her cooking. She did say that she had been thinking about bringing a Thanksgiving ham. Helen was surprised by the dead silence that followed.

Wondering what she'd just done, Helen stood there in embarrassment. Fortunately, Mrs. Felder gently took her aside and quietly told her about the basics of what animals were considered kosher and which ones weren't. Helen gave herself a mental smack. She'd completely forgotten dietary laws. Despite the fact that the local Temple was Reform and not Conservative, many members still balked at eating pork and shellfish. Helen told herself to check on dietary restrictions the next time.

After supper was over, the rabbi told them that there would be a talk on the following Thursday. Else Kaplan, a survivor of the Holocaust, was going to talk about her experiences in the Holocaust and asked her if she wanted to attend. Helen said that she might be interested, but while Daria might also be interested in coming, Quinn was a little young, and little Veronica was definitely too young. Rabbi Tallman didn't press her, but said that she was welcome to come if she wanted to.

On Thursday, only Jake and Daria drove to the synagogue. When Quinn said that she really didn't want to go, Helen balked at forcing her, telling Jake that while she wouldn't let Quinn opt out if she was older, but she was only seven, and that the Holocaust was the stuff of nightmares even for adults, let alone children. Daria could go. Helen thought she was more emotionally mature than Quinn, despite the fact that Daria was only nineteen months older than her middle sister.

Rabbi Tallman introduced the speaker: Else Kaplan, a gray haired woman in her late sixties . Daria knew that almost all the Jews that had died in the Holocaust had been living in Europe and expected Mrs. Kaplan to have some sort of accent. Else Kaplan spoke like someone who'd been living in the US for a very long time. The audience sat respectfully quiet as she began her talk.

Else Kaplan had been born in Germany in 1928 as Else Hoffman. The Hoffmans had lived in Germany for centuries and had culturally assimilated. They thought of themselves as Germans, or they did until 1933, when the Nazis took power and began using the power of the state to persecure Jews. By 1938, Nazi persecution had become intolerable and the Hoffmans fled to the Netherlands, thinking that Dutch neutrality would keep them safe from Nazi Germany's anti-Semitic policies. Mr. and Mrs. Hoffman thought that even Holland wasn't safe enough; they'd tried to take their family to the Americas, but the US denied them permission, as did the Republic of Cuba, their second choice. They were still in Holland when the Nazis attacked Poland in September 1939.

"War broke out in 1939 and the Nazis overran the Netherlands less than a year later," said Mrs. Kaplan. "We spent three years in hiding in Holland, only to be betrayed and taken prisoners by the Nazis. We were then put on a train and sent to Dachau.

"My parents and I had heard about death camps and assumed that we'd probably die there. My mother, my sister, and I were separated from my father. The women from our train were sorted again and I was sent to the left while my mother and my sister were sent to the right. I never saw either of them again. I can only assume that they were murdered shortly after they arrived."

"I was not. The SS officer looking over the line of women and girls waiting to enter the camp pointed at me and I was taken aside. I was taken to a small room along with other young men and women and was told to sit on a bench. I sat there waiting with a crowd of bewildered, frightened woman and girls and waited for what happened next.

"After what seemed like forever, SS guards came in and we were ordered out of the room marched out to a parking lot. A couple of women protested and asked to be re-united with their families.. A guard drew his pistol and shot both of them. No one protested after that."

"From Dachau, we were put onto a bus and taken away. This was no ordinary bus. The windows were covered with black paint and the bus had wire mesh over the windows and barred doors inside so no one could escape. The paint not only prevented people from seeing in but prevented us from seeing out, so we had no idea as to where we would be taken. The bus drove for hours and eventually stopped. When it stopped, the door opened and we realized that we had arrived at another Nazi facility."

"This one was much nicer. It was set in the hills, a long distance from anyone, and had open meadows and a small wood not far away. It was much like a sanitarium, with plastered brick buildings, white-painted walls, with clean rooms and floors. The grounds were landscaped. We weren't beaten or tortured, at least if we complied. We were even fed, although not as well as the guards or staff."

"There were differences. The camp had fences and barbed wire, as well as armed guard and attack dogs. There was a cordoned area inside the fences and we were told that if we entered that cordon we would be shot dead. We then learned that it was a center for medical experiments. We were lined up in formation and were greeted by the head of the medical section, and also the head of the facility."

Daria sat in her seat, silent and horrified. She'd already seen a couple of pictures taken during the Holocaust, and despite the fact that the medical facility was much nicer than the pictures she'd seen from Dachau and other camps, this was still the stuff of nightmares.

"The head of the medical section was a Doctor Saunders. He was tall and dark-haired, with cold gray eyes. He said he was a doctor, although I never saw him examine or heal anyone. I suspected that he wasn't a real doctor, but some sort of, of quack. He would come in every now and then and look us over. He looked down on us prisoners as if we were vermin, less, even than chickens or goats. Sometimes he looked at the guards the same way. I still remember his gaze; it was cold, cold and indifferent as death."

"The strange thing about Doctor Saunders was that I don't think was German; he spoke with an English accent and he acted less like a German than an Englishman. He spoke German fluently enough, fluently enough to have the guards and workers obey him, but his accent was strange. I have no idea as to what the guards really thought of him, but when he gave orders, they obeyed just as if he'd been a German born in the Fatherland. "

"Doctor Saunders told us that this was a medical facility and that were there as test subjects. The experiments performed here would be for the common good. We were never told what sorts of medical experiments that Doctor Saunders and his people would perform on us. We were fed. Periodically a doctor or a couple of nurses would examine us to see if we remained healthy, but generally were left alone to wait. At night we were locked into our barracks and were told that we would be severely punished or even killed if we were found outside them after curfew."

"Every now and again, Doctor Saunders or his nurses would come around and perform examinations. He would then choose one or two of us for his medical experiments. Those of us selected for medical experiments were taken to a building at the far end of the facility. Nobody who ever went in there ever came back.

Daria sat quietly in her seat and listened. She felt a chill as Mrs. Kaplan continued her story. Mrs. Kaplan's story was scary. It was something she'd never read or heard before; a story that got scarier as it went along. She shivered as Mrs. Kaplan described how one by one, and occasionally two by two, the people already at the facility or the people who arrived with her disappeared, never to be seen again."

"Over time other people from other countries were brought to the facility," Mrs. Kaplan continued. "They, too, began to be selected and taken away to the buildings at the far end of the facility."

"Some people resisted. Several women said that they thought that what Doctor Saunders was doing was so horrible that they'd rather die than become experiments and committed suicide. Others attempted to starve themselves to death. Their efforts would last at most a week or two, but they'd then be taken aside by one of the nurses, then resumed eating again. When questioned about their wanting to starve themselves, they said that they now believed that Doctor Saunders cared for them and that they'd never kill themselves. I don't know what Doctor Saunders or the nurses did to those women, and I hope I never find out."

"The end of the facility came in early 1944 By then there were less than three dozen of us left. None of the women and girls who had been at the facility when we arrived were still alive. Greta and I were the only ones left from our transport. One night we heard the sounds of shouting, crashing buildings, loud explosions and occasional gunshots. My friend Greta thought it might be the Allies coming, although I knew they were still miles and miles away. I didn't think it was partisans; the facility was deep within Germany and the people in the area were loyal Nazis. I didn't know what happened that night, and I still don't know today."

"In the morning, when we were lined up in formation Doctor Saunders was not there, nor were any of his staff. Some of the guards were missing. Doctor Saunder's laboratory buildings were in ruins. The highest-ranking surviving guard was an Obersturmfuehrer Klein. He announced that since Doctor Saunders and the senior guards were missing, he was now in charge of the camp. We were sent back to our quarters and were locked in."

"A few hours later, we were again assembled into formation. Senior Lieutenant Klein had sent to the nearby village and brought back wheelbarrows, picks, and shovels. He then chose several of us to start clearing out the rubble. I was one of them. The only trace we ever found of Doctor Saunders were some burnt parchments with what looked like runes written on them, a couple of crumpled retorts, and what looked like kettles with legs on them. These frightened the guards even more than they frightened us; they burnt the parchments and told us to put the kettles and the retorts aside. After shoveling the rubble into wheelbarrows, we took it outside of the barbed wire and dumped it outside the barbed wire. The guards then took the kettles and the retorts down to the nearest village, where the Nazis were having a scrap drive for their war effort. We were then locked in our quarters at night just as we had been when Doctor Saunders was in charge."

"This state of affairs lasted for several days. The medical facility was in ruins, Doctor Saunders and his staff were missing, as were some of the senior guards, but Obersturmfuehrer Klein didn't want to appear as a scapegoat."

"One day it all ended. A couple of trucks arrived at the facility. SS guards jumped out of the truck and swarmed over the camp. We thought the end would come, that we would be taken to some nearby ditch, and then be shot."

"That didn't happen. Instead, the Nazis loaded us into a couple of the trucks and took us to a nearby town, one with a railway station where the Nazis had some sort of pen for prisoners. We were then sent on to a Nazi slave labor camp."

"When we arrived, I expected to die there. Instead we became slave laborers. I was sent to work at a textile factory not far from the French border, the other surviving women sent to farms and other places. I learned later than several of us survived the war."

"Over time, I grew hungry, dirty, and thin. I was lucky, I didn't starve to death or die of disease. As horrible as Doctor Saunder's facility was, it allowed me to remain healthy enough to survive the sickness and hunger that killed off so many other Nazi prisoners."

"At some camps, the guards massacred the slave laborers when the Allies approached. That didn't happen with us. Instead, the guards fled in the dark of night, leaving us to await the Allied armies."

Mrs. Kaplan then went on to describe her liberation, being sent to a refugee camp, and only slowly growing healthy enough to travel again. She then started looking for her family, but found no trace of them. They presumably had been murdered. She got a job with the US military government during the occupation. She fell in love with an American soldier named Irwin Kaplan, married him, then moved to the US.

The audience was in a somber mood as she finished her presentation and the applause was muted. Still, the people who'd come to hear her were still curious and wanted to know more. One of them asked her if she'd made any effort to track down Doctor Saunders and bring him to justice. Mrs. Kaplan then said that she reported him to the Allied authorities and tried on her own to see what happened to him and his staff.

"I had no luck," she said. "I never found out. All of the records of that medical facility had been destroyed. Nobody ever found Doctor Saunders. A couple of the guards and clerks were found, but they remembered nothing."

Rabbi Tallman ended the evening with a prayer, and everybody began to go home. Daria went up to Mrs. Kaplan and thanked her for telling her story. She then asked if anyone had ever found Doctor Saunders.

"No," said Mrs. Kaplan. "He might still be out there somewhere. But many of us, the people who were in the camps, the people who survived, even the guards, may God strike them down, are dying off. I think he's dead, but if you ever find out that he's still alive, let me know."

"Yes, ma'am," said Daria.

Daria and Jake got into Jake's truck after the talk. Jake was shaken, and he knew that underneath Daria's calm façade, she was shaken, too. He put his arm around her shoulder and hugged her close.

"I love you, Smidget," he said.


	30. Chapter 30

DaR Highland Years Christmas 1987

Author's note: Daria is the creation of Glenn Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. Harry Potter is the creation of JK Rowling and is the property of JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. I own neither, and neither expect not deserve any financial compensation for this fiction.

-(((O-O)))—

The lyrics for Lord of the Dance was written by Sydnew Carter in 1963 and was set to the tune of Simple Gifts, an old Shaker tune. I don't own the rights to Lord of the Dance either.

-(((O-O)))—

Hopefully those readers still with me caught the indirect references to Gellert Grindelwald's activities in the previous chapter. My supposition was that many of Grindelwald's followers had infiltrated the German state and the Nazi party during the 1930's and had siphoned off money, facilities, and slave labor for their own nepharious purposes.

Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*

Her dad put a Menorah in the window a day later. Since it was in the middle of Christmas season, Daria didn't think anyone along Whirlwind Drive would pay much attention to what her Dad put in the window or much care. But the girl across the street did.

"I saw that thing in your window," said Nancy Carrew.

"It's not a thing," Daria said irritably. "It's a Menorah."

"You know the Jews aren't the chosen people," said Nancy. "They're the Christ-killers."

"Say what?" said Daria, her eyelids narrowing to slits.

"They killed Jesus," said Nancy."Their blood guilt canceled the bargain they had with God. They killed Jesus and that caused God to say that they were no longer God's chosen people."

"I seem to remember that Jesus Christ was executed by Romans, not Jews," said Daria. "That meant that he was executed by Roman soldiers. And if they were Roman troops, they'd probably have been recruited somewhere else and then sent to Judea and Palestine. That means they were as likely as not to have come from Italy, Spain, or someplace at the western end of the Mediterranean. But for some weird reason or other, nobody talks about the blood guilt of the Italians or Spaniards."

Nancy gave her another dirty look. "You're still going to Hell, Morgendorffer. You're too d_ smart."

"Yeah," said Jenny Monk, one of Nancy's circle.

"Sorry, Carrew, but where I go in the next life isn't your call," said Daria. "Or yours either," she added, looking at Monk.

Whether or not Nancy Carrew was impressed with Daria's arguments about blood guilt, she tried to use the blood guilt of the Italians on Jeanette Milano. Despite the fact that Jeanette's mother was Croatian and her ties to Italy were tenuous, Jeanette was not impressed. She slapped Nancy and the two girls got into a fight. Both girls got sent to the Principal's office, and Nancy got two weeks of detention.

Despite Jake's Menorah, the Morgendorffers decided to put up a Christmas tree again that year. When asked about his decision, Jake said "My wife is Gentile and my daughters haven't decided what they're going to be yet. If my wife and daughters want to have a tree this year, they'll have a tree. I'm not going to stop them."

The Holiday Pageant was that weekend. Gail and Farrah decided to go even if they would not be performing that year, and started canvassing former members of Miss Genevieve's dance class to see if they also wanted to go. Some girls said no; they still had bitter feelings about the way Mrs. Crush had treated them. Others had made different plans. With some prodding and shooting down Daria's claim that she was busy that night, Farrah got Daria to agree to come. The ones who agreed to go got together near the school gym's entrance , then walked in and claimed a block of seats.

"So is this nostalgia or what?" asked Daria.

"A little," said Gail. "But my little sister is in the Chorus so I'll be going to show support."

The program started. It was a little strange sitting in the audience instead of waiting backstage for their turn to perform. Daria read through the program and noted that the organizers had found a replacement dance troop, a troop based at the nearby Methodist church. _I bet they aren't as food as we were_ , she thought.

She wondered what style of dance this new troop used. She and the other former ballerinas got a chance to find out shortly after the chorus finished their first three songs. The new troop didn't do ballet or clog dancing; instead their style was closer to folk dance. The new troupe also hadn't been dancing all that long together, either. _Maybe they'll get better_ , she thought with amused tolerance.

"For our last piece," said Mrs. Lightfoot, "we'll be performing our version of _Lord of the Dance_."

Mrs. Lightfoot cued the music, and Daria recognized the tune. She'd been expecting one of the many dreadful Christian tunes that she'd occasionally overheard when her mother had taken her either to the strip mall or downtown back when she took ballet lessons, but was pleased to hear that it was _Simple Gifts_ , an old Shaker tune.

She expected the dance troupe to perform and then retire backstage, but Mrs. Lightfoot had a surprise for them. "I would like everybody in the audience who wishes to join us to come up front and dance with us," she said.

The audience sat still in their seats, then by ones and twos, people began to rise from their seats and join hands with the dancers.

"I'm game," said Gail, standing up. Farrah stood up, putting her purse and program on her chair. "So am I," she said.

She looked at Daria and smiled. "Daria?" she said.

 _Whatever_ , thought Daria with her half-smile. She stood up too and joined Gail, Farrah and the other ex-ballerinas as they made their way to the stage area to join with Mrs. Lightfoot's dancers.

She joined hands with the other girls, who joined hands with other members of the audience, who joined hands with their children already on stage. They danced, some well, some badly, but they all danced.

 _Dance, dance, wherever you may be  
I am the lord of the dance, said he  
And I lead you all, wherever you may be  
And I lead you all in the dance, said he_

Christmas break started during Hannukah, Christmas Eve came right after Hanukkah ended. On Christmas Day, Jake, Helen, and all three girls got presents, including jewelry for Helen and a gift certificate for hardware for Jake. All three girls got dolls and toys, and Daria and Quinn got books. The girls also got a couple of ridiculous-looking holiday sweaters from Grandma Barksdale and some hand-made knick-knacks from Grandma Ruth. Daria didn't know whether Grandma Ruth made them herself or bought them at a craft show. Since Grandma Ruth wasn't likely to come down to Texas, she'd probably quietly disappear them after writing Grandma Ruth a thank-you note.

Stacey came by the day after Christmas with her older sister to show off her new bike. Daria wasn't much of a girl for pink, but grudgingly gave Stacey credit. The bike looked _bad_ , howbeit in a pink, girlish way.

A day later, Daria again dreamed about the bearded man in his cell. Somehow she sensed that he could sense her. _Merry Christmas_ , she thought at him. She didn't know if he felt it or not.

Jake and Helen decided to stay in that New Year's Eve and watch the ball descend at midnight on Times Square on television. All three girls decided to join them, although Ronnie decided to turn in around 10:45 and took a spot in Daria's bed. Daria and Quinn looked at each other and hoped they'd get some sleep later; Mom and Dad would probably be noisy later on. Jake and Helen had already uncorked a champagne bottle; Daria had taken an experimental sip and wondered how grownups could stand the stuff.

The four Morgendorffers in the sitting room watched the TV screen and joined in the count-down. "…Seven, Six, Five, Four, Three, Two, One! Happy New Year!"

Daria woke up on New Year's Day with Ronnie in her bed. She'd first gone to sleep in Quinn's bed, then had to wake up when Quinn decided to turn in. Sometime during the early morning, she had moved over to Daria's bed and was between her and the edge.

"Wake up, kiddo," said Daria. "I need to get up and go pee-pee."

Ronnie grumbled, but got up so Daria could do her business.

 _Things were getting crowded_ , thought Daria when she returned to bed. Ronnie was going to be three soon; Daria doubted that Mom and Dad wanted to keep sharing their bedroom with Veronica much longer; Ronnie would have to move out. What concerned Daria was that Ronnie would probably have to move in with her and Quinn. _It would be nice if we all got our own rooms_ , she thought.


	31. Chapter 31

DAR Highland JA 88 Cuthbert

Disclaimer: _Daria_ is the creation of Glenn Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. _Harry Potter_ is the creation of JK Rowling and is the property of JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. I own neither property, and I neither expect nor deserve any financial compensation for this fiction. I am writing for my own amusement and ego gratification.

Gussie Fink-Nottle was the creation of PG Wodehouse and is the property of the Wodehouse estate. I don't own him, either. Gussie doesn't appear, but his grandson Edgar and his great-grandson Cuthbert do. I don't believe that Wodehouse ever discussed Fink-Nottle grandchildren

Daria Ravenclaw*Daria Ravenclaw*Daria Ravenclaw*

Daria awoke in fright on New Year's Day from a dream where a single day kept repeating itself over and over again. She put out her hand to touch her younger sister's shoulder to reassure herself that this was 1988, not 1987 all over again. She was disturbed to find that Ronnie wasn't there. _She must have already gotten up_ , she thought hopefully to herself. She moved her leg. She was relieved to find that it was not in a cast like it was last year. _This must be 1988_ after all, she thought with a smile, and reached for her eyeglasses.

Daria knew that this year would be different from last year, even if she wasn't wearing a cast or leg brace. A trip to the hardware store informed her just how different this year was going to be.

Highland was not a large city or even a large town. It was small enough to know people. Sooner or later you'd see someone you knew at someplace you didn't expect. Such was the case at the hardware store, where Dad had gone shopping for a table saw.

"Jake!" said a man with a British accent, distracting her Dad from his perusal of several different models.

"Ed, my man!" said her Dad. "How's it hanging?"

"Capital as always," replied Ed.

Ed had company, a boy about her age. "Hallo, Daria!" he said enthusiastically.

"Hello, Cuthbert," Daria replied considerably less so.

"So what are you doing here?" Jake asked Ed, who was obviously Mr. Fink-Nottle.

"I was looking over power tools," he said. "I've started that model railway I've been nattering about and I was pricing table saws."

"No need for table saws, my man!" said Jake. "I'm about to buy one and you can come over to my place and use mine!"

"That would be…brilliant," said Edgar Fink-Nottle with a smile.

Over the following weekends, Daria had begun to get used to the Fink-Nottles coming over for a couple of hours to cut lumber and chew the fat with her Dad. Mr. Fink-Nottle was also a train nut, although he was less interested in American trains than he was in British ones. Still, he and Jake found things to talk about. Mr. Fink Nottle had already made a study of some of the rail lines that once ran through this part of the South Plains and Permian Basin, and he told Jake that they should get together some weekend and see what they could find. Daria thought of the railroad relics around Highland; she didn't think there was all that much left to find. Except for an old steam locomotive, there was little left of the old Texas & Pacific. That was more than was left of the Dinky; that one had disappeared even more thoroughly.

Having Cuthbert Fink-Nottle around Casa Morgendorffer so often proved bearable, if usually irritating. Cuthbert had a cheerful, enthusiastic personality that was very much the opposite of Daria's more doubtful, cynical mindset. Daria had been afraid that Cuthbert would be all-fish all the time, but was secretly relieved to learn that it was only much of the time. Cuthbert was still obsessed about fish, but when he was with her Dad and with his father, he managed to dial it back and talk about other stuff-at least for a while.

Ed and Jake managed to get their older children to take an interest in Ed's project, too. Cuthbert was game; Daria held out a little longer. She'd been miffed when Edgar told her that since she was long haired, she'd do well to wear a hair-net, but after talking it over with one of the older women at the hardware store about what had happened to an old hippy boyfriend when he didn't bother to braid or net his hair, she decided that Mr. Fink-Nottle meant well after all.

By the end of January, Ed and Jake had managed to put together the first sections of Mr. Fink-Nottle's modular railroad. They looked strange to Daria, like narrow tables where most of the tops had been cut away. Nor did they have any track; Mr. Fink-Nottle said he had to add the roadbed first, then track, then go to work on scenery. Still, he seemed pleased about the results. He and Jake were now working on the legs, which were essentially unadorned wood with holes drilled into them; they'd get bolted onto the table frame with additional bolts attached to the bottom for leveling.

Daria wondered about the bolts at the base of Mr. Fink-Nottle's table sections. "It's an imperfect world. Most houses where we've stayed over the years aren't really level," he told Daria. Some parts of the floor are higher than others." Daria blinked. That wasn't something she'd ever thought about. Most homes in Highland had poured concrete floors and she hadn't thought about any sort of gradient indoors. Most of the houses she'd been in had been built in the last fifty years, they had solid floors, and floors were supposed to be flat. Now she'd been told that that wasn't necessarily true.

Dealing with Cuthbert away from the garage was awkward. Aside from school, she and Cuthbert didn't have much to talk about. Daria was not a sports girl; Cuthbert was enthusiastic about cricket and soccer. Daria didn't play as much with dolls as she used to, but like most boys, Cuthbert feared losing his manly credentials if he did so. Unlike most boys in Highland, Cuthbert did read some, but whereas Daria mostly read literature, Cuthbert's tastes tended to run towards adventure stories and, of course, anything he could get about fish.

There was also the matter of Quinn. Daria noticed that her middle sister was starting to have certain effects on guys. Cuthbert was no exception. Despite the fact that she thought of Cuthbert as a sort of uninvited guest, she thought of him as _**her**_ guest and not her middle sister's. Cuthbert's infatuation only lasted a couple of weeks, and Quinn was the one to put a stop to it, when she realized just how much Cuthbert obsessed about icky, _**smelly**_ fish.

Cuthbert saw the smirk Daria gave him at the school library the day after Quinn told him to keep his distance. "Choosy, isn't she?" he said.

"Yeah," said Daria. "she's like that."

Cuthbert stood awkwardly and said nothing.

"It's gonna get worse when we become teenagers. At least you got out early," she said consolingly.

Cuthbert decided to change the topic. "What're you reading?" he said.

" _Robert and the House of Lions_ ," said Daria.

"I've read that," said Cuthbert. "That's the one where Robert takes on Apophis and the Order of Serpents for the first time. You know what happens next, don't you?"

"Nope," said Daria. "And Cuthbert, shhh!"

"What?" said Cuthbert.

"Shhh," said Daria. "Spoilers. I want to read the story myself, not hear about what happens beforehand."

"Oh," said Cuthbert.

Another girl returned from her perusing the library bookshelves and sat down by Daria. Cuthbert knew it was Farrah Dagworth, an older girl he'd seen talking to Daria off and on.

"Hey, Daria, is this guy bothering you?" said Farrah.

"No," said Daria. "He's just being Cuthbert."

"So _you're_ Cuthbert," said Farrah. She seemed amused.

"Daria tells me you're over at her place a lot," said Farrah.

"My Dad and her Dad-," began Cuthbert.

"Sweet on you, isn't he?" said Farrah. "You got yourself a boyfriend, girl. I'm proud of you."

" _ **No,"**_ Daria and Cuthbert chorused.

"It's gotta be true love," Farrah teased.

It didn't take long for some of the other kids at James Ferguson Elementary School to notice that Mr. Fink-Nottle and Cuthbert were visiting Daria's house. The teasing started shortly afterwards.

 _Cuthbert and Daria up in a tree  
K-I-S-S-I-N-G  
First Comes Love  
Then comes Marriage  
Then comes Daria in a baby carriage_

Daria, Farrah, and Gloria didn't talk that much about Cuthbert, although Farrah enjoyed teasing Daria about Cuthbert by referring to him as her English "boyfriend."

Valentine's Day came the following week. Daria made valentines for her parents, her sisters, Grandma Ruth, Grandma Barksdale, Aunt Amy, Aunt Rita, and Cousin Erin. She also sent valentines to old friends like Cindy Wise and Jesse Markham, as well as for new friends like Farrah, Gail, and Gloria.

Despite the fact that she didn't see herself as ready for romance, she got some valentines herself. She was pleased to see that she got some from her friends and one from Cuthbert of all people. She was touched but hoped that he didn't see her _**that**_ way. Someday, maybe, with some other guy, but not yet.

-(((O-O)))—

About Daria's book. My take on the Potterverse is that in my alternate universe, MACUSA, the American magical government, not only uses concealment spells, memory charms, and other magical tools to hide the magical world and keep the non-magicals from learning about the magical world, but also disinformation. Describing some of the people, places, and events of the magical world in fiction as fiction makes the magical world seem a little less real to Muggles, hard-core fan-boys and fan-girls being the exception.


	32. The Gang War Starts

DAR Highland Years Gang War Starts FF Version

Rated T for language

Disclaimer: Daria is the creation of Glenn Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. Harry Potter is the creation of JK Rowling and is the property of JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. I own neither, and neither expect nor deserve financial compensation for this work. I am writing for my own amusement and ego gratification.

If you find yourself interested in what happened in the canon Harry Potter books and movies, buy them, rent them, or check them out from your local public library. If you're interested in what happened in the cartoon Daria, buy or rent the Daria DVD of use a legitimate internet streaming service.

The action for this part of Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years takes place in Highland, Texas, home of MTV's Beavis and Butthead cartoon characters, years before Daria Morgendorffer and her family moved to Lawndale, Maryland and her own show.

Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years* Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years

Helen Morgendorffer awoke to the alarm on the clock-radio. Helen used the radio function instead of the buzzer to wake her up, and had set it to the local station, one that had an uncommonly good news and weather department, so she could catch the local weather and learn if the girls' school had been cancelled on account of Highland's rare snowstorms.

The announcer sounded somber when she first began to listen in on what he was saying. Somebody had died, a little girl. Then he began to repeat himself, ostensibly providing an update to what he'd just reported, and Helen learned that he'd been reported that a little girl had been shot to death when some local gang-members had driven by and shot up her parents' house. "Oh my God," said Helen.

Little Veronica had been half-awake in her small bed but her mother's tone of voice brought her to full wakefulness. "Mom, what's wrong?" she said.

"Nothing, nothing," said Helen. "Take it easy," she said. She turned off the radio.

Little Veronica looked at her doubtfully. _Something was wrong. But Mommy said that nothing was wrong. Mommy wouldn't lie to her, would she?_

Helen wondered if Daria or Quinn had heard the news yet. She hoped that her older girls hadn't heard the news. They probably hadn't. Quinn and Daria did have a radio in their room, but it was Quinn's, and was usually set to one of Midland's pop-rock stations

Jake came out of the shower. "Helen, what's the matter?" he said.

"Jake, we need to talk," said Helen. "Outside."

The master bedroom had a door leading directly to the back yard. Jake and Helen seldom used it, but today they both stepped through it.

"What is it, Helen?" asked Jake.

"I just heard a report that Clara Posey, a seven year-old girl, had just been shot dead in her house," said Helen.

"That's terrible!" said Jake "She's just a seven-year old girl!"

"Jake, the Poseys only lived about seven blocks from us," Helen continued.

"Oh my G*d!" said Jake. "Crazy young punks! Now they're driving up and down the street shooting up people's houses! The cops aren't doing their job! Someone ought to stop them!"

Jakes rant continued for a minute and a half before Helen was able to calm Jake down enough to safely come back inside.

The older girls were already up and waiting in the kitchen when Helen and Jake came back in.

"Girls, we need to talk," said Helen. "Could you all sit down?"

"Sure, Mom," said Quinn. Both Quinn and Daria looked curiously at Helen. So did little Veronica, who'd just come in from the master bedroom.

"Quinn, honey, did you know Clara Posey?" Helen asked her middle daughter.

"Yeah," said Quinn, "like she's in my class in First Grade. Like I don't know her that well, but I know who she is."

"Well, I've got bad news for you," said Helen. "She's dead. Somebody drove by her house last night and shot it up. One of the bullets killed her."

 _"No!"_ said Quinn in astonishment. "How about her other folks?"

"I don't know," said Helen. "The news only talked about Clara. They didn't talk about anyone else in her family."

Daria said nothing. She felt a chill from somewhere, despite the fact that this morning hadn't been all that cold. She didn't know the Poseys, but she knew that they lived about seven blocks away in a house that looked much like theirs on a street that looked much like Whirlwind Drive. Some darn gang thing. She felt sick, scared, and a bit angry.

"I'm going to drive carpool today, not your father," said Helen. She then called the law office in Midland and told them that they were going to be late.

Daria and Quinn were quiet as they prepared to take their backpacks and schoolbooks to class.

"Did you know her that well?" asked Daria.

"No," said Quinn. "She was just another kid in my class." She blinked several times and then started tearing up.

"Damn it, she was OUR age!" she said. "Some creep shot her. She didn't deserve to die!"

"No she didn't," said Daria.

Quinn could see that her older sister was upset, too.

"I hope they catch the rat-bastards who did it," Quinn said fiercely.

"So do I," said Daria. "So do I."

-(((O-O)))—

Both Daria and Quinn were quiet as Helen drove her car to the Rowes' house to pick up Stacy. Helen had hoped to find another child to carpool, but nobody responded. Stacy did not come out when Helen pulled over to their curb. Instead, Mrs. Rowe came out and gestured to Helen to step out of her car to talk.

Helen walked over to where Mrs. Rowe was standing. "I'd heard the news about that girl," said Mrs. Rowe. "So have both of my girls. I think I'd better drive both of them to school today. We can resume carpooling arrangements again when things get back to normal."

"OK," said Helen.

"I'll call you this evening," she added.

"Thanks," said Mrs. Rowe.

Helen got back into the car, started it up, then drove away without Stacy.

"What's up?" asked Daria.

"Mrs. Rowe is going to drive her children to school today," said Helen. "They also heard the news and I suspect that they're both pretty upset.

The car pulled into the drop-off area by the school's main entrance a few minutes later. Daria could sense the change of atmosphere even before she opened the car door and stepped onto the sidewalk. Parents stopped their cars longer at the main entrance and gestured nervously. Parents walking their children to school from across the street walked with their heads moving and their eyes scanning for danger, their children huddled close together and looking subdued.

Daria opened her door. "Good-bye, Mom, see you this evening."

"Yeah," said Quinn.

Both girls walked to the main entrance and went inside.

The atmosphere inside was dark and gloomy. By now, at least half of the school had heard about the shooting, and many of the children were trying to cope with grief at losing a schoolmate or the fear that whoever had shot Clara might strike again at somebody else's house.

Sandra O'Meara was waiting for her and the other students to arrive for class that morning. She was in a grim mood. She wasn't one to listen to the local news broadcast, but she'd heard the news about the Posey girl almost as soon as she'd entered the building.

"I'm sure that most of you have heard about the Posey girl's death last night," she said. "Most of you are upset and for very good reasons. I don't know how many of you knew her, how many of you were friends with her…"

Ms. O'Meara's speech was interrupted by Vice Principal Trimble on the school's public address system. Ms. O'Meara listened incredulously as Vice Principal Trimble used his air time to tell them that since Principal Strong was out, he was in charge, told them that there would be a crackdown on children out in the halls without pass or roughhousing on the playground, then listed the morning's activities. Trimble finished by saying that was all, then cut off his microphone. No mention of Clara Posey, no acknowledgement of her death, or any effort to acknowledge that one of his students had been brutally taken away from them.

Ms. O'Meara looked murderously at the speaker. If that idiot wouldn't do what needed to be done, she'd at least attempt the effort.

"As I said a couple of minutes ago, I know that most of you are upset and for very good reasons. I don't know how many of you knew her, how many of you were friends with her, or even how many of you were her relatives. I will say that she was one of our school mates, she was one of us, and that we'd like to treat the memory with respect…"

She heard two boys in the back in the back of the classroom start to poke at each other and then heard them start muttering at each other. She pounced on them like a hungry bobcat on a pair of incautious field mice.

"Beavis, you and your pal have just earned detentions," she said.

"Uh, uh," said Beavis.

"Uh, uh, nothing," said Ms. O'Meara. "Be quiet." Having dealt with the perennial troublemakers in the back of the classroom, she walked back to her desk in the front of the room.

"In memory of our schoolmate Clara, we're going to have a moment of silence, starting now."

The moment came to an end. She resumed teaching class, but as she expected, most of the children were off-track, even if they weren't acting up.

-(((O-O)))-

.

Jeannine Javert wondered what was with it with Vice Principal Trimble. One of the kids in the school was dead, and not just dead, but murdered. The news about Clara's death had spread like wildfire before and during school, and the children were upset, especially the children who'd known her, and Vice Principal Trimble was trying to act like it was a normal day. At the very least, he should make some sort of announcement over the PA system or call a special assembly to acknowledge the Suzy had been taken violently from her friends and classmates. She should already be busy counseling the most distraught children, but instead the man was pretending that it was a normal school day and that Clara's murder hadn't happened.

-(((O-O)))—

About eleven o'clock, someone or something got through to Vice Principle Trimble, and he gave up the pretense that today was a normal day. He announced that there would be a break from classes and that there would be a special assembly in the school auditorium.

He stood up from his chair, walked up to the podium and began speaking.

"As you know, one of our schoolmates, a Miss Clara Pesky, was killed last night," he said.

Diocles McGraw looked at the Vice Principal Trimble in disgust. _Her surname was Posey. Can't you give the poor kid the dignity of getting her surname right_ , he thought. He grimaced as Vice Principal Trimble offered up a few saccharine thoughts, and then closed with a pointedly sectarian prayer for little Clara and her parents. _She had an older sister in Middle School and a younger brother in kindergarten, you asshat. You might have checked before speaking._

Nancy Carrew offered up her two cents' worth as she and her fellow students were changing for gym class.

"I bet that Posey girl was colored," she said. "Colored people do that sort of thing all the time. I bet her brother was in a gang or something."

"She was white, Carrew," said Abigail Goodman.

"She had to be running around with a gang or something," Nancy retorted.

"Yeah, right, like seven year-olds run around with gangs," another girl said sarcastically. "Carrew, why don't you do yourself a favor? If you don't know anything about something, why don't you say nothing. People might start thinking that you're twice as smart as they think you are right now."

-(((O-O)))-

School let out that day at the usual time. Still, it was obvious that things _weren't_ usual. The sports teams that practiced after school in the athletic fields weren't outside; practice had been canceled. The lines of parents' cars waiting to pick up their children at the main and side entrances were far longer and moved more slowly than they had just the previous week. Children who'd walked to and from school before the shooting occurred huddled inside instead of milling around in the open. Several police cars parked around the perimeter of the school grounds, and the police officers looked wary and alert.

Jake, not Helen, picked up the girls that day. He asked them if Stacy would be riding with them and the girls said no. He asked them how they were feeling. Quinn said that she was sad; Daria said that she felt the same as usual, but Jake knew that even if he wasn't that good at recognizing his oldest girl's moods, he could tell that she was lying.

They rode home in silence. Their Dad acted as if he wanted to ask if there'd been any gunfire at school, although there hadn't been any. Neither Daria nor Quinn wanted to say anything, even to deny that there hadn't been any gunfire near school, which there hadn't. Daria was coming to the conclusion that Dad could be overdramatic about almost anything.

Conversation at dinner was strained. Jake did force himself to talk about his job at the wholesalers' and about some of what some of the people did at the office. Helen talked about a law case her boss had just assigned her; it sounded interesting, although she could see her husband's and her childrens' eyes glazing when she touched on some of the legal details. The big elephant in the room, the drive-by shooting, wasn't mentioned.

Quinn did bring it up that evening. "What if they come by and shoot up our house?" she said.

 _I wish you hadn't said that_ , Daria thought.

"I don't think they will," said Daria with more sincerity than she actually felt. "Mom and Dad are straight and neither of us are gang members."

Quinn seemed relieved, but the thought stayed with Daria when she went to bed that evening. She slept badly that night, and for the next couple of nights. She didn't remember her dreams, but she knew they were bad ones.

The next morning was calmer, if still tense. Helen had set the clock-radio in the master bedroom to the buzzer function, and used the television in the breakfast room. She and Jake had been relieved to learn that there hadn't been any more drive-bys, although there had been reports of a couple of robberies in the parking lot of one of Highland's strip malls and two different people had been forced to drive to an automatic teller machine and forced to withdraw everything from their checking accounts.

If the Texans were on edge, the Fink-Nottles were more so. Cuthbert looked particularly disheveled the next day. He also acted like he'd slept badly; in class he seemed tense and distracted and quiet and listless out on the playground. If Daria had been a mean girl, she might have made fun of him for being so frightened, but Cuthbert acted like a scared kid trying to deal with a frightening situation.

Daria could relate to that; she felt like a scared kid trying to deal with a frightening situation.

-(((O-O)))—


	33. Checking Into The Hotel Aylesford

Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years. Checking Into The Hotel Aylesford

Disclaimer: Daria is the creation of Glenn Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. Harry Potter is the creation of JK Rowling and is the property of JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. I own neither, and neither expect nor deserve financial compensation for this work. I am writing for my own amusement and ego gratification.

If you find yourself interested in what happened in the canon Harry Potter books and movies, buy them, rent them, or check them out from your local public library. If you're interested in what happened in the cartoon Daria, buy or rent the Daria DVD of use a legitimate internet streaming service.

The action for this part of Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years takes place in Highland, Texas, home of MTV's Beavis and Butthead cartoon characters, years before Daria Morgendorffer and her family moved to Lawndale, Maryland and her own show.

Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years* Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years

There were no more drive-bys for the next few days. There were several clashes downtown where gang members in different automobiles shot at each other; that was normal for Highland, except that there was more of that than usual. A couple of people got robbed at gunpoint; one outside a liquor store, the other two outside a dance hall, which responded by rescheduling its acts for 8:00 PM and closing at 10:00 instead of its usual 1:00 AM. People told themselves that maybe things might be cooling down towards normal.

Then the second drive-by occurred.

The Morgendorffer women heard it happen, though they didn't know what it was at the time. Jake might have told them; his experience at Buxton Ridge had taught him to recognize gunfire. But Jake had gone on a business trip and Helen and the girls assumed that it was some brainless idiot setting off firecrackers to scare people until they first heard the sound of squealing tires followed shortly afterwards by a woman screaming.

A couple of police cars converged on the house a few minutes later, lights flashing and sirens wailing, followed shortly afterwards by Emergency Medical Service. By that point Helen realized to her horror that she'd heard a second drive-by, this one even closer than the first.

The Morgendorffers didn't learn the full details until the next morning. The gangers had targeted a rival gang-member's house and had shot it up. They'd not used a friends' or relatives' autos to do the job, either; instead, they'd hijacked an out-of-towner's car at gunpoint and used it as the getaway vehicle.

The gang-member they'd meant to shoot had not been at home when they'd driven by; he'd been out. But his mother's sister had been there and had been seriously wounded. Nor was the damage limited to the targeted house. As was the wont with military –grade weapons, novelty siding, home insulation, and sheetrock hadn't been enough to stop the bullets after they'd been fired. The bullets kept right on travelling and went through the wall of the house behind it.

Daria, Quinn, and Helen all had nightmares in the aftermath, as did Ronnie. None of them shared their nightmares at the time, but both Daria and Quinn dreamed that they'd come home and found their house shot up and their mother and sisters lying dead from gunshot. Daria had other dreams, dreams of a crazed dark-haired woman laughing maniacally in the back seat of a dinged muscle car asz she either fired off an automatic rifle or waved a wand that caused the houses on either side of Whirlwind Drive to go up in flames.

Nor were the Morgendorffer girls the only ones to have nightmares. Several young families lived in the same neighborhood as Daria, Quinn, and Veronica and they were equally upset. A couple of them acted out at school. Vice Principal Trimble announced that anyone disrupting classes would be automatically suspended. He was overruled by Principal Strong, who'd returned from his conference. Principal Strong said while disruptions would be punished, he wanted everyone to stay calm and to pray silently for the victims.

For that matter, both Jake and Helen were terrified that the violence might spill into their home. Yet despite their fear, they couldn't afford to leave and they didn't wish to abandon their careers or their plans for a better future. Instead, they started strategizing on what they should do until the gang war was over.

"I think that what we ought to do is check into a hotel in a safer part of town until this is over," said Helen. "There are a lot of motels along I-20."

"It's an idea," said Jake, holding up his hand, "Helen, let me think about it."

What he didn't like about those hotels was that they'd been placed for easy access for motorists pulling on or off of the interstate highway and that those features were a help, not a hindrance, to a car full of gang-members with automatic weapons. What to do…What he wanted to do was to find someplace _safe_ , someplace no gang member would _dare_ attack, a place where someone with a car with trouble in mind would have difficulty getting into and out of their strike zone. Jake thought some more and realized that his long-dormant military training had been rousing itself from deep slumber.

 _I never thought I'd need to think about that crap again_ , he thought to himself. Despite the fact he'd graduated as one of the lowest-ranking cadets in his class at Buxton Ridge, he knew he'd been better at managing a battlefield than most of his classmates, despite the fact that none of his classmates ever listened to anything he ever said. _Shaky Jakey knowing anything? No, the arrogant little shits blew off anything he might have to say before he so much as opened his mouth._

 _Obstacles_ , he thought. _Obstacles would be good_. He didn't think the cops or the neighbors would let him set up tank traps or sow caltrops on Whirlwind Drive, but maybe he could find someplace decent where the road was torn up and traffic had to make a lot of detours? He never thought of torn-up streets, parked construction equipment, and blocked traffic lanes as being any sort of plus to his plans, but they might be here. He thought of a recent trip downtown. The streets had been torn up, several lanes had been blocked, a couple of intersections closed, and the time he'd spent trying to get out of that part of town drove him crazy.

"Actually, I think the Hotel Aylesford might be a better choice," said Jake.

"The Aylesford?" said Helen. "Isn't that downtown?"

"It is," said Jake. "But it's only about four blocks from city hall and they've been digging up the streets and putting in new water and sewer pipe."

Helen didn't think that torn-up streets, road barriers, and detour signs were a good thing. They caused delays and slowed traffic. She wanted to say that this was one of Jake's hair-brained ideas and reject it

"And this is good because?" she said.

"We can get a room on an upper floor and nobody would be able to drive by and put bullets through our window," said Jake. "And if the streets are all torn up, nobody could hope to do a fast run-by the front of the hotel, so we and the kids would be safer. And since it's so close to police headquarters, those punks would be crazy to try something there."

Helen frowned. Jake's thinking sounded—thoroughly Jake. It sounded cracked-brained, it sounded contrary, it shouldn't make any sense, but despite everything, it _did_ make a weird sort of sense.

"I think we ought to have a look," said Jake.

"You might be right," said Helen. "Let me call them and see how much they charge."

Helen returned from the master bedroom a short time later. "The Aylesford has rooms available and at a good rate, too," said Helen. "We can spend a couple of nights there until things look like they've settled down."

Helen said that she'd take a look at the Aylesford the next morning. She left early, leaving Jake to cook breakfast and to take Daria and Quinn to school and Veronica to daycare. For once he resisted temptation and cooked very plain oatmeal, much to Quinn's disgruntlement. Quinn wanted to try the new cold cereal Jake had brought from the store yesterday.

Helen called Jake during his lunch break.

"You're right about the Aylesford," she said. "The streets are all torn up and nobody is going to be zooming by the front like a race car driver. I can make reservations from work and we and the girls can check in this evening."

-(((O-O)))—

Jake broke the news to the girls when they arrived home that evening.

"Girls, your Mom and I have talked things over. We've decided that we're going to leave the house for a couple of days and stay at a hotel. I want you to pack a couple of days of clothes and your school supplies. We'll be leaving no later than nine and we'll check into the hotel a bit later."

"Are you going 'way and leave me?" Veronica said worriedly.

"No, June Bug, you're coming, too," said Jake.

"Are we going to Midland?" Quinn asked hopefully. She still resented how those girls at the Midland department store had treated her, but Midland had a couple of very nice hotels owned by big chains out of Chicago and New York and staying at one of them would be so cool. Also, it would put her one up on some of the more popular girls.

"No, we're staying in Highland," said Jake. "We'll be staying at the Hotel Aylesford."

 _Whatever_ , thought Daria.

 _Ugh,_ thought Quinn.

-(((O-O)))—

Dinner that evening was take-out. Afterwards, everyone set to packing. It wasn't like it was like a real vacation, one where they'd actually be traveling to someplace new, but their Mom had told them to pack changes of clothes, their school books, school supplies, and other necessities. It took longer for Daria to pack than it took Quinn. Despite the fact that she wasn't as clothes-conscious as her younger sister, she wanted to pack some books for recreational reading and make sure that she had enough writing paper for her diary.

They missed Dad's proposed deadline of being prepped and ready to go by 9:00, but they were out the door and in the car by 9:45, and after Jake made several trial-and-error attempts to navigate the torn-up streets in that part of downtown Highland, they were in the lobby of the Hotel Aylesford by 10:15. Both Quinn and Daria thought that the area around the check-out desk and the main lobby was old-fashioned. Daria thought it was a jumble of 1930's movie, cow palace and Moorish castle and wished that she could see it in daylight, Quinn thought it was old and dumpy, and both girls thought that the dark and lighting made it look creepy, especially with the drive-bys going on.

The Morgendorffers got a pair of rooms on the fifth floor. Daria's and Quinn's room did look old fashioned, like something out of an old Hollywood movie. Still, there were concessions to the late 1980's: a television, a mini-refrigerator, and up-to-date telephones. Its layout was strange. The hotel room not only had a door leading out to the hallway, but another one in the middle of the wall. They heard someone knocking and swallowed a bit of fright.

"Y-yes?" said Daria. The door opened and it was their Dad.

"Girls," he said, "since there's two large beds and enough space in your room, Ronnie will be spending the night with you instead of with us."

Daria yawned shortly after Jake brought in her suitcase and Veronica claimed a couple of drawers in the hotel dresser. Despite the fact that the hotel's interior looked strange and that they felt out of their element, all three girls were able to drop off to sleep before midnight.

-(((O-O)))—

Daria was a little surprised at the reception she got the next morning at school.

She got an unexpected hug from Farah. "Good to see you!" said the older girl. "With all the crap that's going around we worried that someone might have shot up your place."

"Nope," said Daria. "Nobody had."

"You gave me a scare," said Farrah. "I tried to call you about 10:00 PM and nobody answered. I was afraid that the gangers had struck again."

Quinn learned that Stacy had also been worried.

"What happened?" said Stacy. "My Mom tried calling you guys and no one answered, then I tried calling you and like nobody was there. We were scared to death, We thought the gangers killed you!"

"No, Mom and Dad checked us into the Hotel Aylesford downtown," said Quinn. "It's this dumpy old hotel my Dad found. He thinks we'll be safer from the gangs if we stay there for a few days."

The school was even more on edge than the day before. Principal Strong came on the public address system to make that morning's announcements and to reassure his students. While Principal Strong and a couple of teachers and counselors told them that the gang war was only temporary (although they never called the situation a gang war) and that everyone should remain calm. Principal Strong did bring up that the city council had imposed an 8:00 PM curfew for everyone under the age of eighteen and that he expected everyone to comply with it.

Despite the fact that there were several police and sheriff's patrol cars surrounding the school, PE class was off-track. While some of the students did go outside, they stayed close to the school building and kept scanning the street to search out carloads of would-be shooters.

Stacy was near the front entrance when school let out that afternoon. She told them that her mom and dad had agreed to carpool that day with the Morgendorffers. The fear was still with them; Stacy was not up to her usual non-stop chatter, but she did ask again about the Hotel Aylesford. She seemed pleased to hear that Daria had decided that she thought it was almost cool. She asked Jake why he and Helen had chosen the Aylesford, and Jake told her about his belief that the sewer excavations, closed intersections, and detours made drive-by shootings that less likely. When they reached their neighborhood, Jake saw that Mr. Rowe's car was in the driveway, dropped off Stacy, then made a brief stop at their house to pick up the mail, check the answering machine, and pick up more clothes. He did get a phone call from Mr. Rowe on his cell phone and spent some time explaining why he was staying downtown.

The next day was much like the first, except that Daria, Quinn, and Veronica found themselves adjusting to the Hotel Aylesford. Daria had found the Old Movie Channel on the Aylesford's cable system and she and Quinn watched parts of old Hollywood classics before and after dinner downstairs in the hotel dining room. Daria also found that one of the walls was a sort of photo exhibit, the start of which featured photos of the Earl of Aylesford, the Prince of Wales, the Earl's first wife, the Earl's second wife, and a family photograph showing the Earl with his second wife and two daughters taken less than a month before he'd been thrown from a horse and broke his neck in the fall. The photo exhibits continued, showing pictures of the Hotel Aylesford when it first opened, old photographs of Highland during the great oil boom, and photographs of oilmen, celebrities, and Texas politicians who used to stay there.

Daria had worried that Quinn's bratty behavior would make the staff angry and that she and her sisters would find herself staying in their room in de facto house arrest. But to Daria's surprise, that wasn't the case. Despite Quinn's opinion about the hotel's décor, in less than 48 hours she'd charmed the main desk clerk, Dairon, and made friends with the cashier and head bellman. If Daria hadn't made as positive impression on Dairon as her younger sister, he still proved friendly enough.

When Daria was examining the photographs on the wall during her second evening at the hotel, she and Dairon were able to make conversation. He told her about the history of the hotel between its opening in the 1920's and when it closed in the middle 1960's, explained who the people were on the photographs, and that the hotel was again not only taking travelers, but also hosting weddings and other events.

He also told her something else. "You know," he said. "This hotel is supposed to be haunted."

-((O-O)))—


	34. The Aylesford's New Guests

DAR Highland Years Aylesford Hotels New Guests

Disclaimer: _Daria_ is the creation of Glenn Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. _Harry Potter_ is the creation of JK Rowling and is the property of JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. The Fink-Nottles are descendants of PG Wodehouse's Gussie Fink-Nottle, a character from PG Wodehouse's _Jeeves_ stories. I don't own Gussie Fink-Nottle, either. Also, I neither expect nor deserve financial compensation for this story; I am writing for my own amusement and ego gratification.

Please gratify my ego: write and post a nice review.

Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years* Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years

School remained tense the following day. A couple of the younger, more high-strung children woke up and started screaming during nap-time. PE was equally tense; the children refused to play and a backfiring car from a street set off pandemonium as some children started running, others started screaming, and some children did both. Daria got up and dusted herself off after she realized that it had been a backfiring automobile, not from a gunshot.

The Morgendorffers carpooled again with Stacy Rowe, picking up Veronica from daycare along the way, then dropping off Stacy. Neither Jake nor Helen were ready to check out of the Hotel Aylesford yet, but they did want to pick up mail and clothing at the house. Daria noted that both Mr. and Mrs. Rowe's cars were in the driveway when they stopped to let out Stacy. Were the Rowes going to run off too? Would they stay nearby and wait for the crisis to pass or would they leave Highland entirely.

Jake then went to the house to pick up the mail. He had just opened the passenger door to his crew-cab truck when he was hailed by Mr. Hawley from next door. Mr. Hawley said hello to everyone and said that Digger missed all three girls and hoped that they'd come back soon. Daria wondered if Digger missed them for their company or for the occasional doggy treat her Mom had stocked for her girls to occasionally dole out to help insure that they stayed on Digger's good side.

Then the conversation got a little more serious. Mr. Hawley said that only a fraction of the people in Daria's neighborhood moved out because of the drive-bys; most stayed put. He also said that he thought things had quieted down in the neighborhood and that the Jake and Helen could bring their kids back home. He did say that there'd been several burglaries in the last few days. Mr. Hawley thought that a couple of them might be caused by gang-members looking for valuables, weapons, or cash, but some of them might also be caused by other people taking advantage of the fear and people leaving the area. Jake noted that he glanced across the street at the Carrew place while he said it.

The Carrew house had gained a new resident, a much older boy that Daria hadn't noticed until after the new year. Mr. Hawley said that his name was Dusty Carrew, and that he was Nancy's older brother. Daria had decided that she didn't like him. He looked shifty, and she particularly didn't like the way he looked at her. She wasn't surprised when she learned that neighborhood gossip said that he'd been in a juvenile detention facility.

The following morning, the Morgendorffers were looking at the television in the Aylesford's breakfast room to catch the local news. There had been a couple of shootings; kids in cars passing each other either on US 87 or on Interstate 20's access road, and reports of a robbery at the Traveler's Rest Motel on I-20. Despite the fact that the motel robbery was scary, Daria saw her Dad give her Mom an _"I told you so"_ look.

The next news feature showed Highland's mayor and police chief announcing that the new curfew was already beginning to quell the violence of the last week. The police chief also said that there would be some Rangers on their way to Highland to lend further assistance. The television station then showed a film clip of police detaining and questioning a teenaged boy who'd been driving around after curfew. Daria smiled when she recognized who the boy was: it was unmistakably Dusty Carrew. She wondered whether she should bring it up out of the blue or save it as ammunition in case Carrew got it in mind to do some more bullying or put-downs.

Daria discovered that she didn't need to mention Nancy's brother's appearance on television that day. Nancy was uncommonly quiet, gathered her stuff, and left without so much as giving Daria a dirty look on the way out the classroom door.

Otherwise things seemed almost normal. Gail and Farrah commiserated with Daria about the fear and what it had done to so many people's socializing. Gail lived in a gated community; Farrah lived in a cul-de-sac off a narrow, twisting road that paralleled where some of the bluffs on the west side of town dropped to the creek. All three girls wished that the trouble would end and things would get back to normal.

Farrah had taken up a new sport: teasing Cuthbert. She discovered that chorusing "Hello-o-o-o Cuthbert" was an enjoyable way to make the English boy blush. It went even better if she could get a couple of other girls to join in.

School ended and after picking up Vernonica from daycare, Jake took the girls directly to the Hotel Ayleford. Stacy had gotten a pass and left school early; Daria wondered if the Rowes had decided to leave town. She learned that she was wrong that evening when the Morgendorffers went downstairs to the hotel lobby. Both the Rowes and the Fink-Nottles were there with luggage.

Edgar Fink-Nottle greeted the Morgendorffers when he turned away from the reception desk. "Hallo!" he said. "We decided that this hotel is safer than the hotels along the motorway and nicer than the trailers near the air base!" He looked cheery about the change of scenery; Mrs. Fink-Nottle looked around at the surroundings as if she thought that the Ayleshire was an American version of some Beirut hotel during the height of the Lebanese Civil War.

Jake introduced the Rowes to the Fink-Nottles. Cuthbert was the only Fink-Nottle who knew anybody from the Rowe family, being acquainted with Stacy from school and from the Morgendorffer house, so Jake made the introductions for the other Fink-Nottles.

The three families got a large table and ate dinner together. Stacy's older sister Suzy had heard about the Fink-Nottles from Stacy and was surprised at the differences between the Fink-Nottles' accents. Edgar came from Wiltshire while his wife Camille's family was from near Norfolk.

Suzy and Cuthbert discovered that they had things in common. Both liked soccer. Suzy was on the Billy Sol Estes Middle School's team and they'd not only played against the other middle school in Highland, but also against teams from other towns. Cuthbert could guess how that went: he'd now lived in Highland long enough know that when a team from Highland played against one from Roscoe or Tuna, it was likely to be a curb-stomp in Highland's favor.

Camille Fink-Nottle asked Belinda Rowe how she liked Texas weather. Mrs. Rowe responded that she found it hot, dry and windy. She did hope that her husband would get promoted and be able to transfer back East. Her native Maryland did have more humid summers, but Maryland's were cooler and summer ended sooner instead of dragging all the way through September like they did in Highland.

Camille said that the Fink-Nottles' stay in Highland was temporary and sooner or later the aerospace firm that Edgar worked for would transfer them somewhere else. She added that while she thought that while what she'd seen of Europe and America had been exciting, she hoped that Edgar would move up the corporate ladder and finally be able to settle down near company headquarters in the UK.

After dinner, the three families went their separate ways: the Rowes and Fink-Nottles to finish unpacking and settle in, the Morgendorffers to go upstairs, do homework, and put Veronica to bed. Now that they had a idea as to where they were staying, the younger set silently made plans to socialize while they were staying at the Aylesford.

Quinn turned on the television, occasionally watching what was on. Daria lacked Quinn's talent for ignoring what was showing, and grumpily joined her parents in their adjoining room. She was there when the local station broadcast the latest about Highland's gang war. Daria had learned that it had gotten vicious enough to attract attention from well beyond Highland. The war was started by an out-of-towner named Sickles, whose girlfriend had family in the area. The reporter showed a prison picture of Sickles: he was big, muscled, and scary-looking. He had a shaved head and face tattoos, including a couple of teardrop tattoos to the rear of his left and right eyelids. Despite her young age, Daria already knew what that meant: guys with those particular tattoos had killed somebody. His eyes frightened her more than the tattoos; they looked like the eyes of a killer, the eyes of someone who cared for no one or no thing. When the Second Wizarding War started years later, the dead-eyed expressions of the Death Eaters on the Ministry's wanted posters were no surprise for her. She'd seen those looks well before she'd started at Hogwarts.

The television news broadcast more stories about the gang war and how it started. There was a new gang in town, one that called itself Steel Hand. It was headed by Reinhart Sickles, an out-of-towner who used to have family in the area but had grown up in Houston. When Houston had grown too dangerous for him, he decided to move back to Highland and become the news crime boss. After bringing in a couple of lieutenants from Houston and, after recruiting a couple of Highlanders and people from the area, he started his campaign to take over local drug traffic.

There already were a couple of local gangs in Highland. The Riders dominant in the north west of town; the Los Boys gripped the eastern part of Highland and Howard County east and south of the city. Both hated each other, and clashed over who would dominate downtown Highland and the areas near the older strip malls. The Riders had initially allied with Sickles' group, and had even helped him gain new recruits. But after bloodying Los Boys, the other in-town gang, Sickles had turned on the Riders and the two groups were now violently on the outs.

"I hope they put an end to this soon," said Helen, looking disapprovingly at the television screen as the news station turned to sports. Daria didn't think it would be.

-(((O-O)))-

Daria's temporary move to the Aylesford hadn't gone unnoticed by the Aldrete twins. Despite the fact that Daria had little to do with the Aldretes in or out of school, she wasn't surprised that they'd found out. The Aldretes weren't part of the popular crowd, they still had the reputation as the crazy twins, but they knew things, usually long before anybody else found out.

Daria found out how well the Aldretes were connected to their grapevine when the twins caught her in the locker room.

"Hey, Daria," said Connie Aldrete.

"Hey," said Daria.

"I heard that you guys were staying in the Aylesford downtown," said Connie.

"Just for a while," said Daria, not wanting to talk about the gang war with them, "then we'll go back home."

"You guys need a break from hotel food. You all ought to come over to Los Girasoles," said Sarita Aldrete. "The food's good and I think you'd like it."

"A restaurant?" asked Daria.

"Yeah," said Sarita. "Some of the best Mexican food in town. It's about twenty blocks from the Aylesford. Our cousins own it."

"And bring Cuthbert," said Connie. "He's cute."

"Thanks," said Daria. "I'll tell my parents. We'll see what they do."

Sarita looked at Daria and gave her a look of exasperation, as though the Anglo girl should have seen something obvious but didn't. Daria wondered what that was about. A couple of the kids did talk about their parents' or uncles' businesses, but the Aldretes usually didn't. She wondered if there was something more to the Aldretes' invitation, something she didn't see.

After dinner that evening Daria and Quinn introduced the Old Movie Channel to Suzy, Stacy, and Cuthbert. It proved to be a big hit as far as Suzy and Stacy were concerned, and they'd watch it as often as they could. Some of the films Cuthbert enjoyed, but others were what his fellows at school already called "chick flicks." Two nights later, feeling the odd man out, Cuthbert went down to the second floor. He found several doors spaced widely apart and discovered that he'd found a couple of ball rooms. He retraced his steps and found another door. The sign next to it read Game Room.

He opened the door, found a switch for the lights, then then flicked them on. There was a pool table, a couple of old pinball machines, what looked like a roulette table folded up and stored on its side, a foosball set, and a long table that reminded Cuthbert of a shuffle board but set at waist height. Curious, Cuthbert walked over to the shuffleboard table. He saw that it had two disks, triangular scoring patterns at both ends like a real shuffleboard game, and a power cord running to a socket in the floor. The control box had what looked like a coin slot, a coin return, a button, and a green light glowing on what looked like the game table's control box. Cuthbert supposed that the game worked. Still curious, he walked over to one of the two pucks and gave it an experimental push towards the scoring pattern at the other end of the table.

He was amazed at what happened next. The piece slid down the game board like it was floating on an invisible film of air. It reached the end of the table and gently bumped against the wooden strip that kept the puck from continuing on to the floor. _Cor_ , thought Cuthbert, _it shouldn't have done that_. He walked down to the puck and gently pushed it back in the other direction. Again, the puck glided as if it was still riding its invisible air cushion. He played with the puck several more times and wondered what made this game table so weird. _Magnets, maybe?_ Maybe he could go talk about it with his dad.


	35. A game of Shuffleboard

Disclaimer: Daria is the creation of Glenn Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. Harry Potter is the creation of JK Rowling and is the property of JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. I own neither. I am writing for my own amusement and ego gratification.

Rated T for language. Highland, Texas is Beavis and Butthead country, after all.

Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Year*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years

Cuthbert brought up his discovery after school.

"I found the game room," he said.

"Ho-kay," Daria said slowly.

"It's on the second floor," he said. "It's worth a Butcher's."

"It's worth a _what_?" said Daria.

Cuthbert looked puzzled for a moment, as if he'd forgotten something.

"It's worth a look, I mean."

After dinner, Cuthbert led Daria and the Rowe sisters out the second floor elevator door and into the game room. Quinn didn't come; she was on the outs with Cuthbert for something or other.

Daria wondered what was inside the game room. She'd overheard stories that despite the pronouncements from Preacher Babcock and other Highland-area moralists, Highland hadn't been as squeaky-clean during and after the big oil boom as the divines would have them believe. She'd already heard about bootleg liquor and had heard of illegal gambling operations. Did the Aylesford have one of those clubs? She saw the roulette table and smirked' If the roulette table was anything to go by, the answer was certainly yes.

 _Jerusalem on the South Plains my ass_ , she thought. She'd leave that honor to Abilene.

Cuthbert was right about the game. It looked like a version of shuffleboard, except it was set at waist level, and the scoring pattern was set in reverse from the sort you played on the ground or shipboard, the harder you pushed, the lower the score.

.

Daria shoved one of the disks. It glided down the table just as Cuthbert said it would.

 _Weird_ , thought Daria. It should not have done that; there should have been more friction and the disks shouldn't have moved that far. Daria saw both Rowe sisters nudge the game's disks and get the same results. Daria, Cuthbert, and the Rowe sisters then experimented with pushing the disks back and forth. , Suzy and Daria then tried to play a game of shuffleboard. This tabletop version had scoring set in reverse from the sort you played on the ground or shipboard, the harder you pushed, the lower the score.

Cuthbert and Stacy then tried their hands with the game. Daria watched with surprise as Stacy transformed from a nervous, insecure six year-old into a confident, determined player. Honors were tied by the time the girls got bored. Daria had won and then lost playing against Suzy; Stacy had the same results against her sister. Despite Cuthbert being the game room's discoverer, all three girls had given him solid drubbings. The children then went back upstairs to work on their homework before calling it a night.

Daria told Quinn about the game room the next day and showed her how to play it after school. She then left Quinn in the game room, confident that the extra security guards the hotel had hired would keep the bad guys out and her sister safe.

Quinn came back upstairs a few minutes later, swung the door open, and glared at her older sister.

"You know that stupid game you guys were playing with," she said. "It doesn't work."

"Hunh?" said Daria. "Well, you just have to nudge the disks gently to the scoring area. Don't shove it, just give it a gentle nudge."

"Well, it didn't even do _that_ ," said Quinn. "After you left, I tried to play a game by myself. I gave one of the disks a nudge just like you did, and it wouldn't even budge. I thought it might be broken, so I tried to do what you did with the other one. I tried nudging it; it wouldn't even _move_. I then tried pushing it, and the disk would only move a couple of inches. I then tried picking it up, and it was heavy as a brick. When I tried to shove it, it would only move a couple of inches."

"Well, was it plugged in?" asked Daria, puzzled.

"I tried to see if the game was working and yes, it was plugged in. The light by the coin slot was flashing yellow. It's a stupid game and it's broken!" Quinn added indignantly.

Daria shook her head. She'd enjoyed playing with the shuffleboard table. The game probably was broken. That made her sad. She suspected that she would have evenutally gotten bored with it, but it was fun while it lasted.

Quinn went down to the receptionist's desk right after that and demanded to see Mr. Dairon. After Quinn indignantly told him that the shuffleboard table wasn't working, he said he'd have Maintenance do something about it. When Cuthbert and the Rowe sisters went to play in the game room after dinner, the shuffleboard table had a sign on it that said "Out of Order." The Rowe girls frowned at the sign, then went back upstairs.

Cuthbert looked at the sign and wondered. The game table looked like it should work. The light on the control panel showed green. Cuthbert put his hand on a disk and gave it a nudge. The disk glided towards the end of the table like it had the day before. So why did Mr. Dairon put a sign on the game table saying that it was out of order? He didn't know.

Daria walked in a little after Cuthbert and the Rowe sisters had left. She gave one of the disks a nudge, and watched as it glided down the table. She wondered what Quinn's problem was and why her sister said it didn't work.

When she went back to her room a few minutes later, she said "I tried that game a couple of minutes ago. I didn't have any problem with it. It seems to be working fine."

Quinn looked at her and scowled.

That's because you're _weird_ ," she said.


	36. Identifying The Misfi

Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years. Identifying the Misfit

Daria is the creation of Glenn Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. Harry Potter is the creation of JK Rowling and is the property of JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. I own neither, and neither expect nor deserve financial compensation for this story. I am writing for my own amusement and for ego gratification.

This chapter rated T for Language

Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: the Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years

Highland was somewhere between a large town and small city; it was still small enough so that you might find yourself near the center of the action. Daria knew that it was possible that she'd run into one of the Steel Hands or someone from one of the other gangs that were tearing up Highland, but she didn't think it was likely. If you'd asked her, she would have said that she had better odds of meeting the President of the United States of America. That changed a couple of days after Cuthbert showed her the game room when she and Jake went out to the drug store at one of the strip malls north and east of downtown after school. Highland still had a drug store downtown, but it was small and its stock was limited, despite the VA hospital not being that far away.

Her Dad had driven to the strip mall not in his usual crew-cab pickup truck, but in a loaner car provided by a car-rental agency affiliated with the garage that he and Helen usually patronized. The rental agency had provided him with a street version of some of the muscle cars used in dirt-track stock-car racing, complete with a large engine, racing tires, and reinforced shock absorbers. Jake had already learned that the car gulped gas like fraternity boys drank beer at a kegger party. Still, he had the thrill of driving a _real_ muscle car, the sort of car he dreamed about in the summers when he came home from Buxton Ridge, and he decided that he didn't begrudge the extra money he'd pay to feed the rental car's voracious appetite. He'd get his truck back in a day or two; in the meantime, he could be that kid whose dreams finally came true.

Daria felt a little smug about this trip. Quinn had wanted to come too; she'd even left her light jacket and her pink knitted cap in the back seat, but Mom had stopped her plan to come along at the last minute.

It was Daria who spotted the man, and recognized who the man must be. It was Snake, one of Sickle's sidekicks. Comparing him in her mind to the photographs that had appeared on television and realizing that the features matched sent a chill through her chest.

She didn't expect to find herself in the Grandmother's role from Flannery O'Connor's "A Good Man Is Hard To Find." She thought about what she should do. The Grandmother had caused her family's destruction when she identified the Misfit right in front of him instead of keeping her stupid mouth shut. Daria thought that the grandmother could have kept her family alive if she'd been smart enough to play dumb and not recognize him.

Daria made her decision. She certainly wasn't going to blurt out "You're the Misfit!" in front of him. If she kept everything low-key, then quietly, carefully back away from the scene, she and her Dad could avoid following the plot of O'Connor's story. _Be cautious, Morgendorffer, don't look at the guy, try to leave without attracting attention._ She pulled on Jake's sleeve.

"Dad, do you trust me?" said Daria.

"Of course, Smidget," said Jake.

"I think we ought to leave now," she said.

"Now?" said Jake.

"Really," said Daria.

Jake hesitated for a moment, but recognized his daughter's tone of voice. The Smidget wouldn't say anything like that unless she had very good reasons.

"Let's go," he said. "We can come back later."

-(((O-O)))-

It was a really good plan; it ought to have worked. But it didn't. Despite Daria's caution, Snake realized that he'd been made. It wasn't one of the grown-ups who'd made him; he'd been recognized by a little girl. The little girl said something to her Dad; the man listened, then took her by the hand and left the store.

What to do? Snake decided that he'd play it safe. Reinhart had a job he wanted done by tomorrow night, one that would cement his posse's control on this hick town. Reinhart said that the plan needed secrecy and preparation. The last thing he wanted were cops on his case and that meant taking care of any witnesses. Family Man and his little girl were witnesses. They needed to be taken care of.

He thought about how to take care of them. The best thing to do, thought Snake, _was get control of the two of them, take them out to someplace quiet, and do them both._ He thought about ordering Jack to walk over to their car and take it at gunpoint. He discarded it as a bad idea; there were too many other witnesses and he and Jack would be made as carjackers even if he tried to waste them all.

When Snake reached his car, he realized that his plan had a very obvious flaw: Jack wasn't in the side seat. He'd gone off somewhere. Snake thought about doing it solo, rejected it, then clenched his teeth in frustration as the Family Man got into the car with his nosy little girl, started it up, then backed out to drive away. He started up his own car, then noted that Family Man had just made a right turn. He was thinking about what to do next when he heard someone give the roof of the Saturn he was driving a couple of thumps. He looked over and saw that it was Jack; the $-hat had finally finished whatever he'd been doing.

"Whassup?" said Jack.

"Witnesses," said Snake. "We got to take care of them."

-(((O-O)))—

"So what was it, Daria?" asked Jake as he was backing up.

"There was a guy in the drug store," said Daria. "I recognized him. He was one of the Steel Hand gang, one of the ones wanted by the cops."

"Oh my G*d," said Jake.

"That's why I asked you to leave the store," said Daria. "I thought it would dangerous to be anywhere near the guy."

Both Jake and Daria had the same thoughts. _Had the gangster seen them getting into the car? Had they decided to follow them? If they did, what the Hell would they do?_

Jake saw a left turn lane at the next intersection. He knew this intersection; the lights cycled through quickly and he and Daria wouldn't be here long. He could make a left turn, drive over to Goodnight Road, then make a right turn. After that, they could drive back to the Aylesford. Helen would just have to wait for her hair products.

Jake and Daria didn't know it, but they'd temporarily shaken off pursuit. Snake looked around in all directions, trying to find Family Man and his street rod.

Snake was in a bad mood. They'd lost Family Man and his kid. He still wanted them and he wanted them bad.

He decided to drive around a bit to see where they'd gone. If he saw them, he and Jack could follow them and do Plan A: get control of them, drive to someplace quiet, and do them. He turned left, then right. He was now on Goodnight Road. He looked ahead and he saw it: Family Man's street rod. He smiled. _There you are, you asshole,_ he thought.

Daria was still frightened. She hoped they might be safe, but there was no real reason to believe that they were, at least not yet. She looked out the side mirror to see what cars were behind them. She didn't recognize the gangsters' car. She and Dad had left the parking lot before she could see what sort of car they might be driving.

The light changed and traffic started moving. She kept looking in the side mirror, and saw a Saturn aggressively attempt to work its way around the car directly behind their street rod. The pickup behind them refused to move over, and the Saturn had to stay behind. The Saturn then decided to try to pass on the right. Daria looked over and saw the driver; it was the guy from the store.

The gangster wasn't able to get in front of Daria's and Jake's car; the car in front of him slowed down to a complete stop to let someone who'd parallel-parked to get out into traffic.

Jake was feeling a little euphoric. He thought he lost them.

"So how are we doing, kiddo?" he asked.

"They've spotted us," said Daria. "They're driving that blue Saturn over in the right lane two cars back."

Jake glanced in his rear view mirror. There was a blue sedan over on the right two cars behind them, but he didn't recognize the make. "I'll try to lose them," he said.

The lights changed and traffic began to move again. Just to stay on the safe side, he made a left turn, then a right turn, then another right turn. The blue Saturn was still with them. That car was following them. There was no reason for those guys to be tailing him. Daria was right. This was not co-incidence. That car _was_ following them.

Jake was frightened. It wasn't just that his daughter was right; it was what she was right about. There were two gang members in a car behind them, they were following him, and they wanted to kidnap and probably kill both of them.

He was in a car chase. By now he had a sense of how the guy in the Saturn drove: he was an aggressive driver who was unafraid of taking risks. Jake had been more aggressive in the first years after he'd gotten his driver's license, but he'd grown more careful as he'd grown older. More to the point, he had a passenger: his oldest girl. *

Jake didn't realize it at first, but he had an advantage over Snake: he'd been living in Highland for the better part of a decade and knew the town's streets and roadways far better than the gangster who'd grown up inside Loop 610 and had only been living in Highland for a few weeks. Jake also had something else Snake lacked: practice. Jake had spent years driving to and from work as well as thousands of miles driving on Texas highways while Snake had been doing time behind bars.

Jake decided to risk heading back downtown. Some of the streets near the Aylesford were still blocked and barricaded, but some of the ones a couple of blocks away weren't. He'd try to see if he could trap the Saturn in traffic and make his escape. If he could trap them at a slow light, he could then take the detour that would take them north on 87 and then to Interstate Highway 20. His escape plan hit an obstacle on Second Avenue: school busses. Flipping school busses. In particular one of several school busses, but one with flashing lights, teachers, and students crossing the street in bunches.

There was no way he was going to drive through that. He came to a stop to let the kids pass.


	37. Deus ex Tuna

Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years. Deus ex Tuna

Disclaimer: Daria is the creation of Glenn Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. Harry Potter is the creation of JK Rowling and is the property of JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. Greater Tuna is the creation of Joe Sears, Jaston Williams, and Ed Howard. I don't own any of the above properties, and neither expect nor deserve any financial compensation for this work. I am writing for my own amusement and ego gratification.

Please gratify my ego with a nice review.

Rated "T" for language. Members of the Steel Hand gang are **NOT** nice people. They use naughty words.

Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years

Her dad put on the brakes short of the next intersection, and Daria watched the schoolchildren and teachers crossing the street in a churning whirlpool and fright and consternation. She took a break from looking in the side mirror to see if the gangsters had gotten out of their Saturn and gave a brief look at the sign on the rear door of the nearest school bus to see where the children had come from.

Daria read the lettering on the nearest school bus's rear door: Greater Tuna Independent School District. She clenched her teeth. _Who else but idiots from_ Tuna _would schedule a field trip to Highland during the middle of a flipping gang war_ , Daria thought with disgust and bitterness. She watched another group of students cross the street from their bus over to the other side and the entrance to the Settles Hotel, then got an idea. She unbuckled her seatbelt and stripped off her jacket, then reached behind her and put on Quinn's jacket and knitted cap. She tilted the side mirror on her side. She couldn't see the gangsters' Saturn, which meant: they couldn't see her either.

"Dad, let me out here," said Daria, taking off her glasses and putting them in the pocket of Quinn's jacket. Her eyesight was poor but she could see well enough to safely cross streets with slow-moving traffic. "I changed my appearance, I don't look like I did when we left the drug store, and I can blend in with the kids from Tuna. I can follow them into the Settles and hide while you lose the creeps."

Jake's first impulse was to say no, then order her to stay in the car. They were in an extremely dangerous situation and he didn't want the gangsters to get hold of her. But he was also aware that he might not be able to protect her; all he might be doing was playing a long, losing game where the bad guys would win in the end and kill him and Daria. But one thing he'd learned about his oldest was that she was not only smart and was fast on her feet, but she was careful. Something told him that her plan would work.

He took a deep breath, feeling the pain and fear roil through him, but his girl had found a solution that protected her. Jake realized that they had less than seconds to decide.

"Do it," he said, taking Daria's hand and giving it a brief squeeze. "Tell Mom what's up. I love you, kiddo."

Daria opened the door and stepped out. She walked over to a parked car, crossed in front of it, then vanished momentarily from Jake's sight. Jake's heart felt like it was beating in his mouth. He saw her again as she crossed the street with a clutch of Tuna school children. _She looks almost like Quinn_ , thought Jake and she looked like she was blending in with the other children. He thought of what he and Daria had just done. Helen was going to kill him, but that was for later—if he lived through this. He had to take it on faith that his little girl had gotten away. Jake didn't want faith, he wanted certainty. The children and teachers finally cleared the intersection, the traffic lights changed, and traffic began moving again. He looked in his rear view mirror and saw the driver of the Ford Saturn looking at him.

Jake followed the line of cars in front of him. He looked in his rear-view mirror. The Saturn was still following him, and both of the men he'd seen earlier were still in the car. A rental van that had taken a space between him and the gangers changed lanes and Jake caught a glimpse of the other guy in the Saturn. Both gangers were in their car, they were still following him, and they didn't have his little girl. He scowled. He could now drive like a maniac and he no longer had to worry about Daria's safety. _Game on, you_ _SOB_.

Jake drove on. He looked in the side mirror and saw that the Saturn was still following him. He lowered his window stuck out his arm and shot the other driver the finger. He grinned like a maniac when he looked in his side view mirror and saw that the gangster in the Saturn had seen it.

Jake now began to change lanes and make more turns. He also began to drive more aggressively. He blew through one intersection where cops were directing traffic. Some cars that had begun crossing the intersection screeched to a halt and angrily honked their horns at him. _I'm probably going to jail_ , thought Jake. Helen might kill him later if the cops busted him, but these guys would try to kill him for real.

He found himself near one of the active construction sites, one he'd seen that morning from the fifth floor of the Aylesford. The city had been making progress while he and the girls had checked into the hotel; they'd started reburying the new pipe. Every day they'd bury at least twenty to thirty feet more. He decided to try to cut across the construction site, then get onto the street beyond it. He'd have to risk hitting backhoes, construction workers, dump trucks, or driving into the ditch that the workers had laid for the pipes but were now filling in.

The risks were high but the rewards were big. He might get bogged down in the dirt. He might hit some construction workers. The way out might be blocked. But the gangsters would be trapped in the construction site.

 _So where was the gate? There,_ he said to himself. He made a sharp right turn over the curb and drove into the construction site.

He drove into the construction site. There wasn't anyone in the driveway, thank G*d, but there was a dump truck paused with its rear gate about one and a half car's widths between the ditch and the truck's rear bumper. Jake saw the puff of smoke from the dump truck's exhaust; it was about to back up. He changed gear and pressed his foot onto the accelerator.

The dump truck was in motion when Jake took the street rod across its path. Jake worried about getting hit, but he was more worried about what would happen when he busted through the chain-link fence beyond it. He prayed that there wouldn't be any moving cars on the street or looky-loos on the sidewalk when he burst through the fence. _No other cars, no pedestrians_ , thought Jake. He hoped and prayed that it would stay that way.

Jake flattened the fence, the chain link making a scraping sound on the bottom of the street rod as he drove across it, followed by a couple of bumps as the tires dropped from the curb onto the street. He turned left and hoped that he wasn't being pursued.

-(((O-O)))-

Snake was still chasing Family Man and his brat. The school busses and the children crossing the street might have been a good time to grab Family Man and his kid, but there were dozens of potential witnesses. Snake wondered just what had gotten into Family Man. He'd gotten a bug up his butt and started driving a lot more aggressively after the kiddies cleared the intersection. Family Man shooting the finger at him didn't improve his mood. He was now p.o'ed; he was going to beat the crap out of Family Man when he finally caught up with him.

Family Man suddenly turned right into a construction site. Snake followed after him, paying little attention to construction workers who'd seemingly appeared from nowhere, gesturing at him to try to make him stop. They ran and jumped to either side, trying to avoid getting clipped by Snake's Saturn. Family Man cut right across the path of a backing dump truck and then knocked down a chain link fence on the other side, turning left on the street beyond.

Rage surged through Snake as he saw Family Man getting away. _Like hell you are_ , he thought, putting his foot on the gas.

"Watch out!" yelled Jack. The dump truck was still backing up. It had largely blocked the path that Family Man had made through the site. If the idiot in the dump truck was still backing up, Snake didn't want to be in its path. Snake yanked the steering wheel to the right, then gunned the engine. There was nothing between him and the fence except a line of chicken-shit little orange flags. The Saturn surged forward and then drove over the lip of the ditch, where the weight of his car's front end caused his car to tip down and slide into the ditch. The dump truck continued backing up, then dropped a load of dirt into the ditch, blocking the Saturn's drive-side door.

-(((O-O)))-

Jake was now on pavement. He took several deep breaths and realized that he was now on a street that could take him over to Interstate Highway 20. He looked up in his rear-view mirror. No sign of the gangsters' blue Saturn. He passed an intersection where a Texas Farm Ranch road crossed I-20's access roads and under I-20. He turned right onto the access road, then saw an entrance ramp to I-20. He made a gentle left turn and got on to the Interstate. A sign said that he was on the road to Sweetwater.

Ten miles later, Jake felt relaxed enough to turn on the radio. There was still no sign of the gangers and their blue Saturn. The news station had nothing about the gang war, just stuff about the presidential primaries, the Democrats' continuing clashes with the Reagan administration, and Reagan's discussions with the Soviet Union.

What to do now? He had an idea. It sounded stupid, but he didn't want to be in Highland for a while. _I'll drive to Sweetwater_ , he told himself. I can call Helen from there."

Jake had gone thirty miles down the Interstate before the news station broke its coverage of the national sports scene to report the latest development in Highland's gang war. A couple of gunmen from Sickles' gang had just had a confrontation with police in downtown Highland. They'd been chasing another car through a construction site, then one of the gang members was shot by a police officer who'd seen the car chase, set off in pursuit and tried to arrest the driver.

The announcer said that there'd be more about the story, but first, there'd be messages from the station's sponsors. Jake listened tensely through the commercials for more detail. The announcer gave a brief recap, then added "They then drove into a ditch where one of the gang members exchanged shots with a deputy sheriff who'd followed them into the construction site. One of the gang members is dead, the other is under guard at the county hospital with a severe concussion. Law enforcement is seeking the driver of the car Reinhart's gang members were pursuing for questioning."

Jake sighed with relief. He and Daria were safe from the gang members, but he now had the problem of dealing with jittery cops. He'd packed his mobile cell phone with him, so he could call Helen for advice. He could pull off at the rest stop east of Roscoe and call her from there. He continued driving East, the cops didn't notice him, and he pulled off onto the rest stop's parking area.

-(((O-O)))—

Jake's return to Highland was anything but a Roman triumph. Helen had raged at him over the phone and asked him what the Hell he'd been thinking. He did learn that Daria was safe; she'd followed the school children from Tuna into the Settles Hotel and then called Helen, although Helen wondered out loud why Daria had begged her not to pick her up from the Settles for a couple of hours. Jake drove on to Sweetwater, found a coffee shop, then surrendered himself to several Texas Department of Public Safety troopers who'd been having dinner there.

The next couple of days were free from gang clashes and drive-bys. Los Boys and the Riders both laid low, but that didn't mean that things were now quiet. Snake's and Jack's car wreck gave the authorities leads as to where the Steel Hand gang had hide-outs or stash houses. The police swung into action and made several raids. At one house, the residence where Snake's stolen car had been registered, the police made a grim discovery: the bodies of the older woman who'd been living there and a young girl the woman had been minding. Both had been shot in the head and stuffed into a freezer.

The tide had turned against the Steel Hand. The discovery of the bodies had infuriated not only the police but also many members of Highland's underworld. People who normally didn't co-operate with the police tipped them off as to the gang's possible whereabouts.

Reinhart Sickles wasn't going to go down without a fight. His gang made one last drive-by a house which he thought was used by a pot dealer connected to the Boys, a house about a mile and a half away from Whirlwind Drive and Daria's neighborhood. Nobody was hurt when the shooters in the Hands' car sprayed the house with bullets, but the neighbors had been terrified.

That was the last drive-by. Tipped off by informers, the Texas Rangers raided a Steel Hand safe house and arrested a couple of the Hand's remaining members, but the police failed to arrest Sickles and his remaining top men.


	38. Aftermaths and New Directions

DAR Highland Aftermaths and New Directions

Disclaimer: Daria is the creation of Glenn Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. Harry Potter and its characters are the creations of JK rowling and are the property of JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. I don't own them, and I neither expect nor deserve financial reward for this work. I am writing for my own amusement and ego gratification.

Speaking of ego gratification. It is highly gratifying to read a positive review. Why not write and post one?

Daris Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years

The car chase's aftermaths were messy. Jake turned in the rented street rod, and the rental shop owner had been furious: so much so that he was going to take Jake to court. Jake's drive had caused a lot of damage, his drive had strained the shock absorbers and torn up the tires, and the trip through the fence had further torn up the underframe and front end. Helen feared that they were going to court, yet somehow managed to pressure the insurance adjuster to look over the rental car to see just how much damage had actually done instead of simply taking the rental agency owner's word. The adjuster came by several days after Helen contacted him and gave the rod a thorough examination and to Helen's surprise, most of the damage was confined to a few paint scratches.

The local assistant district attorney had wanted to indict Jake Morgendorffer for trespassing when he drove into the construction site and also for offenses related to reckless driving, but the local grand jury refused to indict him. Lacking support from his boss, the assistant DA let the charges drop. The District Attorney, who had been watching the legal proceedings when the grand jury no-billed Jake, quietly buttonholed Jake outside the courtroom and suggested that he take a defensive driving class, but that was it. The opinion at the DA's office was that Jake Morgendorffer had been a father trying to protect his daughter and the decision was for the law to tell him "Go and sin no more."

-(((O-O)))-

In the meantime, Daria made a temporary getaway from the Aylesford. Farah extended an invitation from her cousin Laura Penrick to spent the weekend out at the Penricks' ranch and Daria had accepted. She was enthusiastict about the change of scene although less than thrilled about the locale: the Penricks lived out in the country and raised cattle and goats. On the other hand, the ranch was nothing like Highland. Still, despite the smells and the orneriness of the goats, Daria found the change of scenery to be a much-needed emotional tonic.

-(((O-O)))—

About three days after the last drive-by, the Aldrete sisters walked to school like things were normal. Daria had seen them on the sidewalk as her dad drove her and Quinn to school, chatting and gesturing as if everything was cool. They saw Jake's pickup and waved.

Daria wondered what was up with the Aldretes and why they were acting so nonchalant. She didn't think it was because the crazy twins were crazy, over the last year or so she'd grudgingly realized that for all their weirdness, they were better-grounded than a lot of her classmates.

Her chance to ask them came courtesy of an urgent need of a hall pass and a trip to to the girl's room. She opened the stall door and saw Sarita Aldrete combing her hair.

"I saw you guys this morning," said Daria. "What are you doing walking down the main drag like nothing's happening? That's dangerous. Aren't you worried about the gangers doing another drive-by?"

"Nope," Sarita said smugly. "Those guys are history. They aren't going to make trouble for anybody."

"And you know this how?" Daria said irritably.

"'Cause I _know_ ," Sarita said. "Those guys are so-o-o over."

"Don't blame me if you have to duck next time," said Daria.

Sarita chuckled. "Morgendorffer, you worry too much," she said dismissively.

-(((O-O)))-

Reinhart Sickles and his remaining lieutenant were never found. The police circulated wanted posters and offered rewards, but no trace of them was ever discovered. Daria didn't learn the full story until years later.

.

A few weeks later, a car registered to a Evvie Brown, who'd been reputed to to be Reinhart Sickle's girlfriend, turned up at the scene of a brush fire several miles out of town. The fire that burned the car and its contents had been exceptionally intense; the metal was scorched and the paint and interior were burned to ashes. Some bone fragments were found in the car. The intense heat made it impossible to guess who they belonged to.

Brown had not been seen since before the last drive-by and the police put out bulletins describing her as a person of interest. For a while, the general consensus was that Brown was no longer among the living, but she turned up in a dingy hotel near New Orleans, incoherent and with no memory of where she'd been or what she'd been doing since she'd last been seen in Highland.

Even before Evvie Brown's car turned up, the Morgendorffers felt that it was finally safe enough to return home. They packed the clothes possessions they'd taken to the Hotel Aylesford, then drove back to Whirlwind Drive.

The gang war had been traumatic for the Morgendorffer family, even if they'd only been bystanders. Jake and Helen gave serious thought to moving away from Highland and put out job feelers. Still, Jake and Helen saw no reason to simply pack and move away to another town, with or without jobs in hand. Despite all they'd been through, something in the atmosphere made them feel that they were safe, perhaps not as safe as they'd be if they lived in a big-city bedroom suburb like Plano or Katy, but as safe as they'd been before the gang war started.

-(((O-O)))-

A couple of days after the Morgendorffers' return to Whirlwind Drive, Daria was called in to the school counselor's office.

"Miss Morgendorffer, we'd like you to take some tests," said Janine Javert.

"What sort of tests?" Daria asked suspiciously.

"Academic performance tests," said Ms. Javert.

Daria remembered her last run-in with Ms. Javert. She didn't trust her.

"Let me ask my Mom," said Daria.

-(((O-O)))-

Helen accompanied her daughter to school a couple of days later and joined her oldest daughter in a conference room with Ms. Javert and Mr. Lamphier, a roving academic counselor who not only worked at James Ferguson Elementary School, but at Highland's other primary schools.

"Mrs. Morgendorffer, as you know, your daughter Daria is one of the highest-achieving and brightest students here at James Ferguson Elementary School," said Ms. Javert.

"Thank you," said Helen. "Surely that doesn't present a problem."

"Not in the usual sense," Mr. Lamphier smoothly cut in.

"Oh?" said Helen skeptically.

"We think your girl is capable of not only performing at fourth-grade level, but at a higher level."

"Does this mean that Highland is finally going to create an honors-track program?" Helen asked hopefully.

Mr. Lamphier made a small frown. "Not in the near future," he said.

"So what is your proposal?" said Helen.

"What I mean to say is that instead of passing Daria along to fourth grade, we let her into fifth grade instead," said Mr. Lamphier. "Would you mind?"

"No, I wouldn't mind," said Helen. "Why should I mind? My darling daughter is a smart girl and if she can do it, she ought to."

"All right, then," said Mr. Lamphier."We'll let her stay in third grade until the end of the term and then in the fall she can start fifth grade."

"It sounds all right to me," said Helen.

She turned to her daughter.

"Daria?" she said.

Daria thought about it. She thought she could handle Highland's fifth grade, although she might need some tutoring in math to get up to speed with her future classmates.

There was another factor involved. It sounded a little stupid, and she was afraid that her Mom would dismiss it if she brought it up. Most of her friends were a year or two older than she was. Gloria had already gone on to Middle School. Gail was about to, as was Farrah. She'd like to keep up with them, and it would be easier if she only had to spend one more year in primary school while they were in Middle School. She wasn't as social as Quinn, but she'd seen friends drift apart as one transitioned to Middle School and the other stayed behind.

.

"Sounds good," said Daria, hoping that Mr. Lamphier's proposal wasn't a typical Highland bait-and-switch. "When do I test?"

"We can schedule the tests in about ten days," said Mr. Lamphier. "Jusging from what I've seen of your transcripts, I think you'll do well."

-(((O-O)))—

Later, somewhere in Greater London

Daria Morgendorffer picked up her manuscript and started to proof-read it, penciling in corrections. She'd retype the corrected essay and give it to her tutor later. She smiled to herself as she read what she'd written. She no longer begrudged the time she spent at Hogwarts as she had her first couple of years there; she'd needed to learn magic and how to become a witch. Still, she was a girl with ambition, and her skills with Muggle science, mathematics, and what were called "language arts" were not what they should be, and she wanted to get into Oxford. She not only wanted to do her bit to rebuild the Black family's fortunes and position, but she strongly believed that any witch or wizard who ignored the existence of the Muggle world was an absolute, utter fool.

Her tutor had asked her to write an essay about death and dying. She did not want to discuss her experiences with the subject at school with her tutor. Instead, she decided to tackle the subject by writing about her experiences before she entered Hogwarts. She flipped over several pages, thanked the Fates that her tutor was a Squib who accepted typed pages instead of script written on parchment with goose quills, and began reading.

"Looking back on my childhood, I now realize that mine had been relatively sheltered, even if I'd spent most of my years before Hogwarts living in a violent, impoverished community like Highland. Unlike children living a century ago, death and dying wasn't something we thought could happen to us. Kids in the 19th century and before often died from diseases like Scarlet Fever, Whooping Cough, Smallpox, Diphtheria, and other illnesses that have almost disappeared thanks to modern medicine. We were either naïve or complacent. Death was something that seemed reserved for older people—gangsters shooting and occasionally knifing each other, other stupid teen-agers driving drunk or driving too fast, grown-ups, especially older grown-ups—but not us. It was as if we all agreed that some invisible hand was placed over us, protecting us from the dangers of the real world.

"Clara Posey's murder was a shock for me and a lot of my peers. Clara's death shattered the illusion that some invisible hand protected us from dying; it evaporated like so much mist. Clara had died in her house, and most of us had assumed our houses were safe places. Death was not only something that could happen while crossing the street or, if we were on the northwest side; it could come into our homes, too. We now found that we lived in a dangerous and uncaring world, one where death could strike us down at some unexpected moment. None of us really felt entirely safe after that, either at home or in the street.

"That February was also the first time I realized that not only could I die in an accident, but death could come seek me out. The gangsters in the drug store that chased my stepfather and me through the streets of Highland sought to do the same thing to my stepfather and me that they'd done to Verna Cabell and the child that she'd she'd been sitting. We only escaped because I was able to find a place to slip out of my stepfather's rental car unnoticed and he was able to lure them into a construction site. I only give so much credit to my stepfather's skill as a motorist and my trickery: our escapes from harm was as much due to dumb luck as anything else.

"A couple of weeks later, I actually saw someone die…"

-(((O-O)))—


	39. A Trip to Calais

Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years. A Trip To Calais

Disclaimer: _Daria_ is the creation of Glenn Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. _Harry Potter_ is the creation of JK Rowling and belongs to JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. I own neither property and neither expect nor deserve any financial compensation for this work. I am writing for my own amusement and ego gratification.

Good reviews are gratifying.

Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years* Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years* Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years

"Yvonne, have I told you?" said Petunia Dursley. "My family is going to go on an outing to France!"

"Where are you going?" asked Yvonne.

"Not far," said Petunia. "We'll take the ferry from Folkestone, go to Calais, spend two nights there, then take the ferry back home."

"Ah, Petunia, that would be a marvelous outing!" exclaimed Yvonne. "Take the ferry, spend a full day in Calais, and then return home the same way! So when are you going?"

"We'll be going during the first part of Easter Holiday," said Petunia.

"So you're all going?" asked Yvonne. "All four of you?"

"No, Vernon, Dudley, and I are going," said Petunia. "We'll leave Harry here. I'm afraid that if we took him, he'd get into trouble in minutes flat."

"Don't want him to ruin your holiday, do you?" said Yvonne. Her friend Petunia had told her time and again that her nephew was a young troublemaker and after years of repetition, Yvonne saw no reason to doubt her friend's word.

Harry Potter had not been aware of the real plan. So far as Harry knew, he was coming, too. In fact, he'd been looking forward to the Dursley family excursion to Calais. He'd never been out of Britain and he looked forward to traveling to a foreign country—even if it was only to Calais. He tried to prepare for the trip. He'd researched the sights and history of Calais at the school library put more work into his French lessons at school.

The day before the Dursleys were to depart for Folkestone and the ferry terminal, Harry learned of the real plan.

"When are we departing tomorrow?" he asked. "Where will we be staying?"

" _We'll_ be going," said Uncle Vernon. "Not you, boy. _You'll_ be staying at Mrs. Figg's."

Harry was crushed when he got the news. He'd said nothing. He'd learned that protests were useless. After clearing the table and washing the dishes, he went upstairs to his new bedroom to open his suitcase and remove the things he'd wanted to wear and use in France, tears falling from his face.

Harry's housing arrangements had changed since that strange girl had appeared in his and his Dursley cousins' dreams. He no longer lived in the broom closet under the stairs: a personal visit from Albus Dumbledore followed by one from Severus Snape had motivated Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia to give him what had been Dudley's spare bedroom

The day of the Dursleys' departure for Folkestone came around. It had been sunny, if breezy, up to the day before, but now the weather had turned cloudy and the wind had picked up. Harry felt the cold, damp wind and looked up at the darkening clouds in the sky when Aunt Petunia took Harry outside to walk him and his suitcase over to Mrs. Figg's. Harry thought that it was going to rain soon.

"But Aunt Petunia," he said. "Aren't you worried about the rain?"

"Be quiet," Aunt Petunia. "It will be _fine_ when we get to France."

Harry said nothing. Once in a great while he wondered if adults were as wise as they thought they were.

Petunia walked Harry and his suitcase over to Mrs. Figg's house and rang Mrs. Figg's doorbell.

Mrs. Figg opened the front door. She ushered Harry inside, warning him not to let any cats out, told Petunia that she'd take good care of the boy, then closed the door. She had company, an older woman who dressed much better than Mrs. Figg, but whose clothes somehow looked a little out of place in Little Whinging.

"Harry," said Mrs. Figg, "this is my cousin Mrs. Owlsley."

"How do you do?" said Harry. "I'm Harry Potter."

"So this is Harry," said Mrs. Owlsley. "So you're the boy who—" A cough by Mrs. Figg stopped her. Mrs. Owlsley looked like she wanted to say more. "You're the boy who lives with the Dursleys."

It took Harry less than ten minutes for Harry to figure out that Mrs. Figg's idea of hospitality was going to be much the same as it was last time: her horde of cats as well as the photo albums showing not only her current feline tenants, but all the cats she'd ever owned.

Mrs. Figg left the television had the television running, but it brought no joy to Harry. She'd left the channel set to a mind-numbingly boring program about development in West Africa. Harry sighed, and resigned himself to a boring afternoon.

His afternoon did not live up, or perhaps _down_ to his expectations. Mrs. Owlsley was a maternal woman who spent very little time talking about cats and more time asking him about himself and life with the Dursleys. She mentioned that she had a brother who lived up north and a married daughter who lived in Canada with her husband and children. She asked Harry if he'd ever been to Canada and Harry, of course, had to say no.

She then began to tell Harry about her journey to Canada and her visit with her daughter and her family. About ten minutes after she started, Mrs. Figg stood up and said that she needed to run to the store and asked Mrs. Owlsley if she wouldn't mind keeping an eye on Harry while she was gone.

Mrs. Figg took a pair of shopping bags, opened the front door, and stepped outside. The front door closed behind her.

Mrs. Owlsley smiled conspiratorily at Harry after Mrs. Figg had left.

"Harry, you'll have to make me a promise," said Mrs. Owlsley. "You'll have to promise me that you won't tell your aunt and your uncle that you were over here alone with me."

Harry decided that he liked Mrs. Owlsley. He trusted her. "I promise," he said.

"Good," said Mrs. Owlsley. She frowned at the television, which now had a panel discussion about what was needed to further develop the Ghanan economy. "This stuff is boring. Let's see what _else_ is on the telly!"

Mrs. Owlsley used Mrs. Figg's remote to change the channel. Harry was disappointed, but not surprised, at most of the programs he saw, then Mrs. Owlsley let the television linger on a program that showed cattle and cowboys. That looked interesting. His strange dreams had led him to get interested in cowboys and America's Wild West. Mrs. Owlsley changed the channel, which started to show one of Dudley's favorite television programs.

"Excuse me," said Harry. "Could you change the channel back, please?"

"Which one?" asked Mrs. Owlsley.

"The one about the cowboys," said Harry.

"All right," said Mrs. Owlsley. She changed the channel back.

The program was interrupted by a station break and Harry was sad to learn that he'd already missed most of it, so he hadn't seen how the parts about how the great cattle drives had started, how cowboys dressed, how they herded their cattle, what it was like on the trail, and why they'd driven their cattle herds north. Harry might have regretted not learning more, but he knew much of what he'd missed seeing from what he'd read in the school library. He missed the parts about the best-known cow towns like Abilene and Dodge City, but he was in time to learn that in later years, the cattle trails grew shorter and led to towns strung along a railway called the Texas and Pacific. He learned that there was a city called Fort Worth, another town called Abilene, and a town called Highland, which was situated west of Abilene and someplace called Sweetwater. The program also showed what happened to those communities in the century since the cattle drives ended.

"I've heard of Highland!" Harry exclaimed. He not only remembered it from his weird dreams, but he'd later looked it up in an atlas at the school library, despite Aunt Petunia sternly telling him that Highland wasn't a real place and didn't exist. He was surprised and pleased to learn that the television producers confirmed what he'd seen in the atlas: Highland was definitely real. He was also surprised to learn that it had a connection to the Earl of Aylesford, a former friend of then-Prince Edward, Prince of Wales, who later became King Edward VII. The earl had had a falling-out with his friend the Prince and had moved to Texas.

"What's adultery?" he asked Mrs. Owlsley.

"Something you won't have to worry about until you're much older," Mrs. Owlsley replied primly.

 _Something to do about sex_ , Harry surmised. There was no point asking any more questions about the Earl of Aylesford and his wives. The subject was closed.

The producers not only showed present-day video of the old cattle towns in Kansas, but also several of the cattle towns of Texas. The footage of Highland was all too short; Harry didn't recognize anything he remembered from his dreams. The producers preferred to spend the last part of the program before the credits showing footage of the Fort Worth Stockyards and the interior of Billy Bob's, a large dance hall located next to the old cattle pens.

Now that Harry knew that Highland was real, he had another thought. He wondered if that weird girl Daria was real, too. He'd learned from Aunt Petunia's interrogation that not only he had dreamed about her, but so did his cousin Dudley. He wondered how she was doing and what she was up to.

Mrs. Figg returned moments before the weather turned stormy. She went into the kitchen to unpack her groceries and prepare supper. Harry volunteered to help her. Mrs. Owlsley stayed over for dinner and was still talking to Mrs. Figg when Harry went to sleep.

That night he fell asleep and hoped that he'd dream of Highland. He didn't, but he awakened in a good mood.

Mrs. Owlsley must have gone out sometime before he woke up, but she returned to visit the next day. She was fun. The second time, she also brought a couple of sacks of used boy's clothing that she said she was planning to give to a clothing drive for children in eastern Europe. She invited Harry to go through her bags to see if there was any clothing in his size. To Harry's delight, there was, and Mrs. Owlsley invited him to keep them. Feeling guilty about eastern Europeans, Harry initially refused, but Mrs. Owlsley told them that if he felt guilty, he could trade the clothes he had on and what clothes he had in his small suitcase for donated clothing in his size. That wasn't theft, Mrs. Owlsley told him, that was trade: items exchanged for other items of equal value.

Despite the wind, the rain, and Mrs. Figg's cats. Harry had a better time than he expected. Mrs. Owlsley was good company, and he didn't have to spend nearly so much time looking at Mrs. Figg's photo albums. All three of them found television programs to watch and Harry retired the second evening in a good mood, despite having three of Mrs. Figg's cats using him as a heating pad.

Harry had to leave for home the next day. His Aunt Petunia walked to Mrs. Figg's door wearing a raincoat and holding an umbrella. It was only while he was helping his aunt prepare dinner that Harry learned how the Dursleys' trip had gone.

The Dursleys' trip had gone badly. It was squalling and rainy when they arrived at the ferry terminal, and the trip across the Channel had been rough. Both Dudley and Vernon had gotten seasick and had arrived at the Calais pier cold, wet, and miserable.

It had been cold, rainy, and miserable during their next Calais, and the Dursleys had remained in their hotel, hoping for a break in the weather that never came. Cold, wet, and miserable, they took a taxi back to the Calais terminal the following day, endured another rough passage across the channel, and were rained on again at Folkestone.

Harry said that he was sorry that they'd had such a miserable time, but said as little as he could about his stay at Mrs. Figg's. After cleaning up, he was sent back upstairs to his room.

He put his suitcase on his bed and opened it. He hadn't had time to unpack before he had to go downstairs to help Aunt Petunia make dinner. He'd have to hand it back; it wasn't his, just borrowed. He unpacked his newly-acquired clean, dry clothing and found a rumpled paper sack placed between the shirts and trousers. He opened the sack and smiled at his contents. Someone had given him a set of plastic horses and cowboys and a note.

"You're a fine boy," it read.

Aunt Petunia never found the note. It crumbled to a thin layer of dust less than a day after Harry read it.


	40. Daria Ravenclaw: Why I Can See Thestrals

Daria Ravenclaw Highland Years FF New House Mrs Eanes Dies

DISCLAIMER: Daria is the creation of Glen Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. Harry Potter is the creation of JK Rowling and is the property of Warner Brothers. I own neither, and neither expect nor deserve financial reward for this story. I am writing for my own amusement and ego gratification.

A little ego gratification can be quite pleasant. Gratify the author. Write a nice review.

Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years* Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years* Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years

The Morgendorffers' prolonged stay at the Aylesford had forced both Jake and Helen to look at their housing situation in a new light. Should they stay at the house on Whirlwind Drive or should they move? Whichever decision they made, they really needed a bigger place. Little Veronica's third birthday was less than three months away, and it was time for her to pair up with one of her older sisters or get a room of her own. Before the gang war started, they'd begun seriously thinking about adding an extension on the back of their house on Whirlwind drive for a third bedroom.

Even so, staying in Highland was a sub-optimal solution. What both Helen and Jake _really_ wanted was to move away from Highland. Helen had put out feelers before the gang war to law firms in Dallas, Houston, and Austin, but had not gotten any meaningful response. One firm did say that they were interested, and had even interviewed her once, but they hadn't sent her anything like a serious job offer. As bad as Highland was, Helen wasn't about to uproot her family from a town where they lived in a largely paid-for house and where her children had made friends.

Both Helen and Jake thought of other options, even if they remained stuck in the Permian Basin. They could move to Midland, although the idea of doing so roused Quinn's and, surprisingly, Daria's spoken opposition. Of course, they might find someplace in a better neighborhood in Highland. Still unsettled as to which option would be the best for her family's finances and her family's future, Helen decided to put off her big decision and chose to do something about a less-weighty problem. Her hair needed styling. She decided to make an appointment to go to the beauty salon.

Ever since she'd rejoined what she'd called bourgeois society back in her radical days, Helen had come to accept that beauty salons were not only places for a little pampering, but also exchanging as well as overhearing gossip. She might not talk about legal work, but she could listen and occasionally share about children, husbands, sports teams, movies, and other things in Highland's daily life.

Today's salon mates didn't seem to have interesting to say. Unable to concentrate on planning strategies for a court case she'd help litigate later that week, Helen resigned herself to enduring the dreary conversation of two slightly older women who'd chosen to remain on the "Mommy track" as stay-at-home housewives.

The two older housewives changed topics after Helen's stylist finished combing her hair and began trimming it. One of their acquaintances, a Virginia Whitby, had gone through a nasty divorce but had gotten title to her house. Gaining title to the house was proving to be a mixed blessing: the house was not only an immovable asset, but was worth less than what the former Mrs. Whitby's husband had paid for it. Owning it also tied Mrs. Whitby to Highland. Mrs. Whitby wanted to sell it and move away from Highland as soon as practical.

 _A house on the market?_ Helen decided to look over the women. Good manicures, nice jewelry, expensive but tasteful clothing…definitely upper-middle class. _Perhaps this Mrs. Whitby's house might be worth checking out,_ she thought _._ Despite the fact that Helen preferred to pretend that she didn't overhear other's people's gossip, she decided that breaking her rules could prove to be worthwhile. She asked one of the wives whether the house was on the market yet, who the realtor was, and where it was located. Mrs. Whitby's house was off River Run Road. Helen knew of River Run Road; it was the road that lead from Yancey Drive down to the gated community where Daria's friend Gail lived. The street leading to Farrah's cul-de-sac also was off River Run Road. Feeling like a cat that had caught a fat but lazy rodent, Helen wrote down what Mrs. Travers told her about Mrs. Whitby's house.

That Sunday, she drove by the house and was pleased to see the For Sale sign. There were cars in the driveway and a For Sale sign. Helen parked her car and walked up to the front door. In doing so, she learned that Mrs. Whitby still occupied the house. To her pleasure, Mrs. Whitby invited her inside and graciously gave Helen a tour of the house and yard. Helen noted that the house was about fifteen years newer than her house on Whirlwind Drive, bigger, and had four bedrooms. Despite Mrs. Whitby's clutter, it looked nice, but Helen remembered that it needed to be inspected before she and Jake chose to put in a bid for it.

The back yard was nothing like the house on Whirlwind Drive. The house on Whirlwind Drive had a scraggly lawn trying desperately and failing to cope with Highland's summer heat and drought. Mrs. Whitby's back yard didn't border on some neighbor's equally-scraggly lawn, but on a thickets of Mesquite, grass, and prickly pear that started near the edge of the Whitby property line, then overlapped her neighbors' property.

That evening, she discussed Mrs. Whitby's house with Jake and asked him if he'd be willing to go in and buy it. They discussed their current savings, both for emergencies as well as the savings they'd put aside for the girls' college and their eventual retirement. They started crunching numbers, but it didn't take long for their dream of moving into the house on River Run to start crumbling.

Jake was the one who did most of the crunching. He tried three different solutions, but the results were too daunting. "Honey, we just don't have the money for a down payment," he said sorrowfully.

"I know," said Helen. "I know." Jake took her hand in his and squeezed.

"A shame, though," said Helen. "It would be much nicer than this house."

They tried to call the realtor the next day to call off the deal, but were unable to accomplish anything except reach her answering machine. The third time Jake tried, he hung-up with a "damnit!"

To his embarrassment, little Veronica was standing nearby. "Is damnit a bad word?" she asked.

Jake looked at his youngest, took a couple of deep breaths, and his mood changed.

"Yes, it's a bad word," he said. "You shouldn't use it."

"You shouldn't either," said Ronnie, shaking her head.

"No, June Bug, I shouldn't," said Jake.

Helen came in about an hour later. They were deciding what to do about dinner that evening when the living room phone rang. Helen picked it up. "Hello-o-o-o," she said.

"Hi, Mother," she said.

"No, we're still doing fine," she said.

"Rita's getting divorced?" she said. "But you and Amy said that she was so happy with this new marriage."

"She's not?"

"She already packed up and left him?"

"How is Erin taking it?"

"I see."

She grimaced. Her sister Rita, the social one, the pretty one, the lively one, the favored daughter, kept having these disastrous love affairs. Two marriages gone sour within two years, and no doubt Mother was going to bail her out again.

"No, Jake and I are still happily married and both of us are getting along in our careers. In fact, we were hoping to buy a bigger house, but we can't make the numbers jibe."

"What? You want to give me sixty thousand dollars so we can make a down payment?" asked Helen.

"Well, yes, of course we'll take it." She felt stunned. This was the sort of thing that Mother did all the time for Rita, but almost never for her.

"Thank you, Mom," she said.

"We'll try to do something this summer," she said. "I'm sure that the girls would relish a chance to get out of Texas." She hung up feeling somewhere between shock and wonder and turned to her husband.

"Jakey," she said, "I think we'll be able to buy that new house after all."

-((((O-O)))-

Helen called Mrs. Whitby the next day and asked her if she'd mind if she brought over her husband and her daughters to look over her house.

Jake and Helen looked over the kitchen and the appliances. The refrigerator was new; even newer than the one they had on Whirlwind Drive. They then looked over the house's water heaters and bathrooms. A couple of the faucets needed replacing, as did one of the bathroom sinks. So did one of the water heaters. One of the toilets in the house's children's wing looked like it needed serious repairs or replacing.

Daria looked over the bedrooms in the children's wing, and so did Quinn and Veronica. There were three bedrooms, not two. Daria was certain that one of the bedrooms would become Mom's and Dad's office while she and her sisters would have a bedroom to herself or share it with a younger sister. Daria hoped that she'd be the sister with her own bedroom and that Quinn would have to share with Ronnie, although she felt a little guilty for being so selfish. She looked at the bedroom, mentally subtracted Mrs. Whitby's stuff, and thought about how she'd like to arrange it if she got it.

Grandma Barksdale's check arrived a couple of days later. Helen promptly deposited it. Still, Helen waited until the check had not only been deposited but had cleared before she told the realtor that she and her husband were ready to sign a letter of intent. She'd learned that her mother could be capricious, and did not want to find herself making such a big financial commitment and then have her mother pull the rug out from under her at the last moment.

Daria's ninth birthday came while Helen, Jake, and all three girls were in suspense waiting to see if they'd move into the new house on River Run Road, stay in the old one, or even move to Midland. Neither Daria nor Quinn liked the latter idea; Daria had come to accept that she liked Farrah and Gail, despite the fact that they came from very different places. Quinn liked her Highland friends and still smarted from the treatment she'd gotten at the Midland department store less than a year ago. This year's birthday celebration was a combination of a trip to the movies followed by a pizza party at a chain restaurant.

Despite the excitement of buying a new house, there was the problem of what to do with the one they currently owned. "So if we buy this new place, what do we do with the old house?" asked Jake.

"We can't sell it yet. The real estate market is still hurting," said Helen. "We can do what the previous owner did with it before he put it on the market. We can rent it out."

Jake gave himself a mental swat. He'd forgotten that their house on Whirlwind Drive had been a rental property. People in the neighborhood remembered it being a rental, and had told them stories about some of the landlords' tenants. Some of them had been pretty colorful. He hoped that he and Helen could find some good tenants; he did not want to go through what their neighbor Mr. Hawley said that the old owners had gone through.

-(((O-O)))—

The week after, Daria volunteered to accompany her father on an expedition to price hot water heaters. The first place they stopped at was a store in downtown Highland, ironically about three blocks away from where she'd taken ballet lessons a couple of years before. Several generations ago, small businesses like this plumbing and plumbing supply store wouldn't have been able to afford to rent or buy property downtown.

Daria didn't mind the plumbing store, but she didn't like the way the salesman had been looking at her. She particularly didn't like the way the salesman had touched her. She wondered if the man was some sort of pervert. What guys like him needed, she thought with loathing, was a permanent rash on the palms of their hands.

Daria decided that the best cure was to step outside. It was a typical, boring Spring day in downtown Highland. She looked down the sidewalk in either direction to see if there was anything to look at, decided that there wasn't, then looked across the street. She looked across the way and saw old Mrs. Eanes ignore the traffic light and the orange DON'T WALK sign and start to cross the street.

-(((O-O)))—

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry  
Scottish Highlands  
September 2nd, 1991

"So tell me, Daria," said Anahita Waring, a friend Daria had made last year on her first train ride from London to Hogsmeade, "don't you think that the carriage ride to the castle was fantastic?"

"I got a kick out of it," said Daria. While it wasn't her first coach ride (she had ridden in a replica Wild West stage coach back in Highland), these carriages were classier, howbeit just as cramped. _Thank the Fates that we didn't have to contend with wild Comanches shooting arrows through the windows_ , she thought.

"What are those creatures called, anyway?" she asked.

"You can see them?" said Violet Banks, her classmate Dahlia's older sister.

"Of course," said Daria. "What's so special about seeing them?"

"They're called Thestrals," said Violet Banks. "The only people who can see them are witches and wizards that have seen someone else die."

"Did you ever see anyone die, Daria?"

"Yes," said Daria.

"Do you want to talk about it?" asked Violet.

Daria took a couple of deep breaths and thought about it. Did she want to talk about it? It was pretty horrible when it happened. But it had happened several years ago, and one of the things she realized that she was learning about magic was that death and dying were very much part of the warp and weave of the magical world.

"OK," said Daria. "It was back in Highland. I'd just turned nine and my Dad and I had gone downtown to price water heaters for the new house. I'd just stepped out the front door of the store and was watching an old lady I knew from my old neighborhood start to cross the street…"

Violet noted that her Texas friend had lost the English school girl speech patterns she'd picked up during her previous year at Hogwarts and had reverted to those of her small-town Texas girlhood. Clearly this story meant something to her.

"Mrs. Eanes was real old and set in her ways. She had trouble getting around and she used a walker. She was kind of a traffic hazard in the neighborhood where I grew up: if you were driving and you saw Mrs. Eanes and her walker at the curb, you'd come to a complete stop if you knew what was good for you. You couldn't be sure what she was going to do next. I watched that morning as she set off across the street against the light. I thought she'd make it; traffic on some of the through streets is pretty hit or miss, and most people can jay walk and get away with it, at least most of the time.

"If she'd bothered to look out for oncoming traffic, Mrs. Eanes would probably still be alive. She didn't; she started walking. The next thing I heard was the sound of a truck horn, screeching brakes, and a soft thump as the truck hit Mrs. Eanes and her walker. I couldn't make myself look away. The impact threw her at least thirty, forty feet. I don't remember the sound of Mrs. Eanes' body hitting the ground, but I still remember the clattering nose her walker made when it hit the pavement. If she wasn't dead when the truck hit her, she was dead within a couple of minutes.

"Of course a couple of bystanders immediately called the cops and EMS. The cops came, and so did the medics, but it didn't do Mrs. Eanes any good. She was already gone. Eighty-seven years old and done in by a Kennelworth hauling drill pipe.

"So how did that make you feel, seeing that?" Violet asked gently.

"It was pretty bad. I slept badly for weeks," said Daria. "My mind kept playing that scene over and over again, hearing the truck horn, the screech of brakes, and the _thump_ as the radiator hit her body. Eventually I started sleeping better, but I can sometimes still hear that thump sound, even now.

"I guess that's why I see Thestrals.

-(((O-O)))-


	41. Palo Duro

Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years. Palo Duro Field Trip and the Mad Dog's Hear Attack

DISCLAIMER: Daria was created by Glenn Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. Harry Potter is the creation of JK Rowling and is the property of JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. I own neither, and neither expect nor deserve financial compensation for this work of fiction. I am writing for my own amusement and ego gratification.

Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years

The James Ferguson Elementary School  
Highland, Texas  
April, 1988

Daria wondered if the powers-that-be would dare let third-graders go out on another field trip after the Petroleum Museum debacle. She was pleased to see that they hadn't. There'd be another one, this one to Palo Duro Canyon. Daria read the announcement for the field trip and saw that it was mostly for the older kids, and Daria worried that she wouldn't be able to go. It would be a long trip; Palo Duro was over 200 miles from Highland. She walked up to the notice to read the fine print. The Devil was in the details; she was probably too young to go. She read further and smiled. No, she was wrong: nine year-olds could go on it, too.

In the meantime, Daria's and Quinn's lives had gotten busier. Their Mom and Dad had told them that they'd likely move shortly after the mortgage application for the new house would be approved, and that the girls should begin sorting through their belongings and tossing anything they weren't going to use anymore.

Throwing clothes away wasn't too hard. She'd outgrown a lot of her stuff and she'd decided that she didn't like some of her old styles anymore, although she'd never admit that to Quinn. She had a harder time throwing away books: it wasn't just that she thought of many of them as old friends and she'd recently started reading stories to Ronnie. She set aside the books she thought that Ronnie would like when she learned to read, put them in a special box, crossed her fingers, and taped it up for the movers.

Daria reluctantly decided to put her doll house up for sale. She still liked it, but she realized that she seldom played with it, and her visits to the Fink-Nottles' house convinced her that if she _really_ wanted a new miniature house, she could build one in one of the popular model railroad scales. An O scale model based on her current doll house would take up less than a quarter of the space her current one did.

A couple of days later, Daria came home from school and found several Highland police cars parked across the street. Mr. Hawley was watching the goings-on from his front yard. Curious, Daria walked over to where he and Digger were standing. "What's going on?"she asked him.

"Dusty Carrew got busted," he said.

"Really?" she asked.

"A couple of the neighbors had their cars and houses broken into during the gang war," said Mr. Hawley. "Nobody could prove who did it until the dumb bunny decided to cut out the fence and sell what he stole at a buddy's garage sale. People recognized their stuff, asked questions, and then called the cops."

A policeman walked out of the Carrews' front door and raised the garage door. Another one walked over to his car, brought over a fancy-looking camera, and started taking pictures. A couple of minutes later, the Carrews' front door opened again and a policeman led out a handcuffed Dusty, walked him over to one of the patrol cars, and started frisking him. Mama Carrew came out right behind them, cursing the cops. Nancy came out a couple of moments later, her face in tears and just in time to see her brother put in the back of one of the police cars. Despite Daria's loathing for Nancy Carrew, this was more than she could stand watching. She turned away and walked back inside her house.

A couple of days later, the realtor that had shown them Mrs. Whitby's house stopped by to talk about business and to tour their house to see if she might help her parents sell it. She'd warned Helen and Jake that Highland's real estate market was soft and was likely to remain that way. Their house might remain on the market for a very long time. She stopped by by Daria's and Quinn's bedroom and saw Daria's doll house..

"That's a nice doll house," she said. "Are you selling it?"

"Yes," replied Daria. "I don't play with it very much anymore."

"Do you mind if I take a look at it?" said the realtor. She bent down and looked it over. She noted the witch's room on the dollhouse's lower level, its garish green walls, and the pentagram Daria had painstakingly drawn on the far wall. Her eyebrows raised, then lowered. She spent several moments looking at Daria, looking at her dollhouse, then looking at Daria again.

"You know," she said, "you might want to repaint that green room in something more neutral if you want to get a good price for it."

Daria gave her a look, then thought about it later on. She'd repainted that room to make a statement, but it was a statement that only she understood. She sighed. She'd repaint it.

-(((O-O)))—

The field trip went off at the end of April. Daria had to be at school so early that Mom could drop her off at the parking lot before going on to Midland. Helen let her out in the parking lot where the chartered buses were waiting to load the children.

"Have fun, Sweetie," she said. "Come back safe."

Daria arrived in plenty of time to make roll call. She used it to chat with Gail and Gloria while they were waiting to board the busses. When the bus started loading, the three girls sat near each other. Gail and Farrah sat next to each other. Daria snagged an aisle seat one row behind Gail. Some of the older children looked at her curiously; she was concerned that they'd make fun of her because she was so short.

"So who's the midget?" asked Donna, a fifth-grader. "She looks like she barely escaped kindergarten."

"This is Daria," said Gail. "We met during a ballet class. She's cool."

"A fourth-grader?" said Donna.

"She's in third grade," said Gail, "but she acts older."

There was a commotion by the bus' front door, a boy's voice saying "Can I still get on?", followed by a hurried "Thank you."

"Sorry I was late," said the English-accented voice. "My Mum couldn't get the car started."

"So who's the English kid?" asked Callie, a fourth-grader.

"The one and only Cuthbert Fink-Nottle," said Farrah. She didn't have much to do with him; Cuthbert was Daria's friend, but she found him amusing, even if they didn't hang around very much.

 _Cuthbert is on this field trip_ , thought Daria. He didn't tell her he was coming. She felt a little miffed.

The bus door closed behind Cuthbert, a teacher matched Cuthbert against her attendance sheet, and for good measure, called roll again. Satisfied that everyone was present, the teacher gave the bus driver a go-ahead. Cuthbert took a seat on the other side of the aisle from Daria, then started talking. His male seat-mate soon looked irritated. Despite the fact that she wasn't that crazy about Cuthbert, she hoped that his mouth and enthusiasm wouldn't get him in trouble. The third graders had come to make allowances for Cuthbert, but the bigger kids, not so much.

The driver started the bus, shifted it into gear, and began rolling. The bus went down a couple of blocks, turned right onto US 87 and started rolling north towards Lubbock, where the charter buses would get onto Interstate Highway 27 and the road to Palo Duro Canyon. Daria knew it would be a long haul: Palo Duro State Park was over 200 miles away.

There really wasn't much to see on the way to Lubbock. The terrain was mostly flatland and was either devoted to cattle ranching or, occasionally, irrigated farming. Even Cuthbert grew bored looking out the window. He tried to talk to the boys in front of him, had no luck, then pulled out a book and started reading it.

There was a pleasant surprise waiting for the children when their busses arrive at Palo Duro Canyon State Park four hours later: some logistical genius had arranged for a catering truck to bring packaged meals so that everyone would have a chance to eat lunch before going down into the canyon. The children descended from the busses and, despite some of the teachers' attempts to keep order, either made beelines towards the sandwich truck or towards the bathrooms.

The Highlanders weren't the only people in the parking lot. Aside from some older tourists, there was also a small film crew. Daria and some of the other students looked at them curiously. A man and a woman, both of whom looked made up for the cameras, and guys with video cameras and microphones. Daria could tell that they weren't locals: they sounded British by their accents.

She wondered how she'd deal with them if they tried to ask her questions. She was tempted to flip them off by telling one of her outrageous stories. Gail and Gloria had taught her a new game, which Gloria joking named "sport lying." The game involved telling the biggest, most outrageous lies the players could think of and not get called on their stories. The loser had to do something really embarrassing. She decided that she'd play it straight even if this narrator or whatever interviewed her.

Thoughts about the camera crew were set aside as Daria sat down with Gloria, Farrah, and some of the older girls and ate lunch. Her sandwich would have been better if there'd been mayonnaise or mustard: as such, she had to eat it dry. Daria had a house-brand equivalent to Seven Up. She would have liked something with some caffeine in it. She grumbled about it; Gail told her that the organizers were probably afraid that if they handed out stuff with caffeine, they'd probably go wild like those two kids in Daria's classes, a thought that made Daria smile. She tried to imagine the two idiots doing their stuff in front on camera and then having it broadcast all over the world it was all she could do to avoid giggling.

Once fed, the children were treated to a brief talk by a park ranger who told them about the history of Palo Duro Canyon. He related that it had been a shelter for buffalo and other large animals for centuries, that it had been used as a Comanche campground, that it was a scene for a Comanche defeat, and that it was also a refuge for one of the last herds of Buffalo. The Ranger's talk caught the attention of the video crew: the camera crew turned their attention away from the landscape and the woman narrating the video towards the Highland school children.

The camera man stopped filming, then the female narrator, a woman named Candida, asked one of the teachers if she could film the students. Permission was granted and the camera started rolling. To Daria's dismay, she was one of the first children to be interviewed.

"And what is your name, little girl?" said Candida.

"My name is Daria Morgendorffer, and I'm a student at James Ferguson Elementary School in Highland, Texas," she said.

"Is your school nearby?" asked Candida.

"No, Highland is about 200 miles away," she said.

"Do you know what was special about _your_ community back in Indian times?" asked Candida.

Daria speculated briefly about what some of the Comanche ghosts she'd seen might have to say, then answered "Highland used to be a sort of oasis for Buffalo and other large animals. It was marked as Big Spring on early maps."

" _Was_ there a big spring near your town?" asked Candida. She sounded amused.

"Yes," said Daria. "It's still there. The area around it is now a state park."

Candida and the video crew went on to interview some of her other school mates. The only ones that she thought that acquitted themselves were Farrah, who'd absorbed some, if not a lot, of her grandfather's love of the Wild West, Bob, who was a former Army brat who knew about the US Cavalry, and Cuthbert, who'd decided to go on the field trip, fish or no fish. Cuthbert being Cuthbert, he'd read up on Palo Duro Canyon before he left.

Candida having finished interviewing Highland students and a faculty member or two, the cameras stopped rolling. To Daria's chagrin, Candida decided that she hadn't done with Daria and walked over to interview her further.

"Do you have anything else you'd like to say?" asked Candida. "Off the record."

"Yes," said Daria. "You might want to do a little more research about your subjects. That way you won't look like idiots."

-(((O-O)))-

In May, Farrah invited Daria to accompany her and Mr. Skein to the rodeo. Daria agreed to go, but only after Farrah promised not to enroll her in the calf-pull again. Enough was enough. Daria's insistence made Farrah laugh, but she agreed. No calf-pull this year.

Daria had a good time at the rodeo. Laura Penrick was now raising goats on her own, and Daria got a chance to see them. She enjoyed talking with Laura; Laura was a down-to-Earth, practical girl who didn't treat her like a little kid. She would have enjoyed it more if the goat hadn't tried to chew the seat of her blue jeans.

Daria, Farrah, and Mr. Skein walked over to the arena and watched the rodeo afterwards. Daria was a little less impressed with the flag girls than she had been the year before, but she found herself so caught up with the barrel racing that she stood up and cheered on some of the contestants as they circled their last barrels, then galloped back to the gate for their home stretch. That night she dreamed about being in a barrel race herself, although she wondered why she was sitting on a broom instead of being mounted on a horse.

-(((O-O)))-

The phone rang while Helen and the girls were eating dinner at the breakfast room table. Helen picked it up.

"Hellooo?" she trilled. "Oh. Hi, Ruth! How are you?"

She paused, and Daria, Quinn, and Veronica could see from her expression that Grandma Ruth did not have good news.

"No, I'm sorry," she said. "Jake's not here. He signed up for a class over at Temple and he won't be back until after 9:30 local time. That would be 10:30 in Coalton."

"He had a heart attack?" she said. "Is Nathan still in the hospital or has he come home?"

She paused again. "He's still in the hospital. What do the doctors say?"

"Is he awake yet?" she said.

There was another pause. Daria, Quinn, and Veronica listened fearfully as Grandma Ruth kept talking. She was talking loud enough that they could hear her voice over the phone, even if they couldn't make out what she was saying. Daria could puzzle out enough to know that Grandpa Nathan (Her mother refused to call him Mad Dog) had had a heart attack and was still in the hospital.

Helen paused again. "How is he feeling?" she said.

Helen's expression changed while Grandma Ruth went on a long tirade.

"Are you by yourself, or do you have somebody with you?" she asked.

"So Evie is there," she said. "Could I talk to her?"

"She's gone to the store?" said Helen. "When she gets back, could you tell her hello for me and my girls? I'll tell Jakey that you called and he can talk to you and Evie himself."

"I know you'd love for us to come up right now, but my two oldest girls are in school right now and I can't find a sitter for my youngest," she said. "Maybe we could come up over the summer. Their summer vacation starts in the second week of June. We could work out a date then."

"I'm sorry, Ruth, but that is when the school set the start of summer vacation," said Helen. "This is Texas, not Pennsylvania. They do things differently down here."

"No, he's still at that class over at Temple," said Helen. "He won't get back until around 9:30, and it's only a quarter after eight down here."

"But I'll tell him the news, and tell him to call you back," said Helen. "He can talk to you or Evie when he gets in. I'm sure you and Evie would be glad to hear from him."

"The girls are here with me," said Helen.

Helen pulled the receiver away from her ear.

"Girls, Grandma Ruth says "Hi!"," said Helen.

"Hi, Grandma!" said all three girls, although Daria's response was a little forced.

"OK, I'll tell him that you called and tell him to call you back when he comes in," said Helen.

"I'll keep you and Nathan in my thoughts and prayers," said Helen. Daria thought her Mom sounded just a little bit insincere, but kept that thought to herself. Her mom hung up the phone and let out a breath.

"That was Grandma Ruth," said Helen. "Grandpa Nathan had a bad heart attack. He's in the hospital, and I think he's going to recover, at least if he takes care of himself."

"Is he going to die?" said Quinn. Quinn was conflicted about Grandpa Nathan. She knew how her dad felt about Grandpa Nathan, but he was her grandpa, and she knew she was supposed to love him. Besides, Grandpa Nathan hadn't been mean to her yet.

Daria said nothing. She already knew that old people died. She knew that her Mom's Dad, Grandpa Ashworth, died back before her Mom and her Dad got married.

Daria didn't like to think about death. She knew it was inevitable. Everybody died eventually. She wasn't sure what happened afterwards. She used to believe that it was dark black blank and you neither saw or felt or thought anything ever again. She was sure that she didn't believe in heaven, at least not in the version where everybody there wore wings, flapped around, and sat on clouds. That sounded stupid.

On the other hand, she had seen those ghosts. She still remembered the old lady who came into her room and waved at her when she was six. The ghostly cowboys still had their cattle drives down Whirlwind Drive during the summer; she remembered giggling when one of them waved at Ronnie and Ronnie waved back when they were out playing on the front lawn. And there was that Indian woman who stopped in and sometimes looked around the house. She once tried to talk to Daria, but she didn't speak English and Daria didn't speak whatever language she spoke. She stopped coming just before her last birthday party. Daria supposed she'd gotten bored.

-((O-O)))-

School would end for the summer in just under a month. It was getting hot in Highland.

"What do you think you'll be doing over the summer, Daria?" said Gloria.

"Well, if you asked me last week, I'd say that I'd probably be doing what I did last year: stay close to home base, help Mom and Dad fix up the new house, maybe go on a mini-vacation," Daria replied. "The rabbi over at Temple says that the Temple is going to organize a weekend trip to Balmorhea, and I'd love to go there."

"Sounds like fun," said Farrah. "I wish Mom and Dad would either take us to the beach or into the mountains. The Anahuac Mountains are less than 200 miles from here and they're a lot cooler than down here."

"What about you, Gloria?"

"We're going up to Colorado in July. We'll be doing some camping and some river rafting."

 _That sounded like fun_ , thought Daria, _at least if there weren't any talking dogs trying to keep you awake._

Daria's assumptions took a hit a couple of days later when Mom and Dad called a family meeting.

"Girls, I hope you haven't made any plans for June," said Helen. "We'll be going up to Pennsylvania to see your grandfather Nathan and then we'll drive down to Virginia to visit my mother."


	42. New Summer Plans

Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years. Summer Plans

DISCLAIMER: Daria is the creation of Glenn Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. Harry Potter is the creation of JK Rowling and is the property of JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. I own neither, and neither expect nor deserve financial compensation for this work of fiction. I am writing for my own pleasure and ego satisfaction.

And if you have money to burn, give some to charity, disaster relief, food and clothing banks, and aiding refugees. It's good karma and you'll feel better.

Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years.

It was mid-May and Jake Morgendorffer could feel the weather shifting from warm to hot. He turned off River Run Road, parked his car in the driveway, and rejoiced that he and his family had been able to move into a much nicer house than their old one. They'd been on Whirlwind Drive almost since they'd arrived in Highland to early last month. He stopped at the mailbox before he let himself in. There was a fat stack of mail waiting for him, and he began sorting through it even before he went inside. Most of it was advertising, a few magazines, some bills, and a letter from Helen's Mom. He put that one aside. Dealing with Lillian put him on edge. He'd rather let her deal with it.

They waited until after dinner and the girls had either started working on their homework or playing in their rooms. Veronica was finding the transition from the master bedroom to living with Quinn a little rough, but she was adjusting. When Quinn had some of her friends come over, she'd retreat to the living room or sometimes she'd go into Daria's room. She usually left her older sister's things alone, much to Daria's relief.

"I got a letter from Mom," said Helen.

"I know," said Jake. "I saw it with today's mail. What did your mom have to say?"

"She said that she hadn't seen us for a long while, that she'd like to meet the girls, and she hopes we can come up to Virginia to visit her. She sounds like she's serious; she sent us a check; it's more than enough money for us to go up there."

"Two checks," Jake said wonderingly. Usually Lilian Barksdale showered her largesse on her oldest daughter Rita. _I guess Mom really wants to look over the poor relations and see how we're doing_ , thought Jake. Still, if it hadn't been for his mother-in-law, he and his family might well still be living in a neighborhood that could turn into a war zone at a moment's notice or trying to find someplace to live in Midland while he was looking for a new job.

"I think I can survive visiting your Mom," said Jake. "So can the girls." Daria and Quinn were clearly old enough to travel and would relish a chance to get away from Highland, even if it might only be for a week. Veronica was almost three; she was old enough to travel, too.

In truth, he wouldn't mind traveling east, at least if he didn't have the additional baggage of emotional strain in his luggage. He'd lived in Texas for over a decade now, first in Austin and then now here in Highland, and he missed seeing the tall trees and the green foliage that he'd taken for granted back when he was a kid.

Helen had a surprise for him a few nights later when he came home from his classes at Temple.

"Jake, your mother called," she said. "It's important."

"What did Mom have to say?" asked Jake. _Did she give any particular reason for calling or does she just want to tear up our summer plans and go up there,_ he wondered.

"It's your father," said Helen. "He had a heart attack. He nearly didn't survive."

"She wants you to come up and visit them. She wants us to come together and bring the kids."

"This is a lousy time to go," said Jake. "I could go, but you're busy and the girls are still in school."

"I know," said Helen. "I told her that. She seems to think that Texas schools keep the same calendars as the ones in Pennsylvania."

"Did it sound like the old man was going to kick off right then and there?" said Jake.

"I don't think so," said Helen. "But I think you ought to talk to her."

"All right, I'll call Mom," said Jake.

"Jake, I know that you and your father don't get along, but it sounded like Ruth is really worried about his health. I think we all ought to try and see him. This may well be the one and only time the girls will be able to see him. It may not mean much to them now, but it will later on after they've grown."

"I am willing to go up there for Mom's sake and that of the girls, but if I do, I am NOT going to spend the night in that house if I can help it," said Jake.

"We won't stay there," said Helen. "We'll stay in a hotel. If he starts acting abusively, we can leave right then and there."

Should he call his Mom now? Jake checked his watch. It was 10:10 in Highland; that meant it would be 11:10 in Pennsylvania. He'd talk to her tomorrow morning.

-(((O-O)))-

He lucked out the next morning. His sister was still there. Evie had left home five years before he did, but while she'd lived on the coast and then in Michigan, she'd moved back East and settled in New Jersey. She had two girls of her own, but they were not only much older than his own, but had moved to Las Vegas and Miami. Evie told him that they did not get along with the Mad Dog.

Evie was able to give him a less-colored account of their father's condition. Yes, it was serious, he was in the hospital, but he'd be out in a couple of days.

No, he wasn't at death's door. The doctors said that he'd live if he followed doctor's orders and cleaned up his act.

Jake snorted when he heard that one.

"Mom really does want you to come up and see him," said Evie. "This one won't kill him, but you know how he is. I wouldn't put it past him to do the same old stuff that caused this one."

-(((O-O)))—

Daria and her younger sisters got the news about their upcoming vacation plans that evening at dinner.

"Girls, I hope you haven't made any plans for June," said Helen. "We'll be going up to Pennsylvania to see your grandfather Nathan and then we'll drive down to Virginia to visit my mother."

-(((O-O)))-

They left Texas from D—FW the week after the girls' school let out. The Morgendorffer family finances had taken a pounding from first having to stay at the Hotel Aylesford during the gang war, then with the far greater expenses of moving, and after Helen and Jake compared the air fares, they found that it was cheaper to fly out of Dallas than Midland, even using long-term parking rates.

They arrived in Baltimore Washington International Airport in the evening and, after gathering all their luggage, they got a rental car and loaded it up. Daria and Quinn thought it was strange that they'd fly into Baltimore instead of Philadelphia, but their Mom said that it was easier to get to Coalton by way of Baltimore than it would be by flying into Philadelphia. They skirted around Baltimore and out into the countryside, crossing the state line after dark. They drove for a couple of hours and pulled into a hotel near Harrisburg.

The next morning they rose in mid-morning, ate breakfast and resumed their drive to Coalton.

The daylight was a revelation. Daria was amazed by the change of scenery. It was so incredibly different from Texas. Everything was much greener here, and the trees… The trees were much taller even than the ones she'd seen planted and tended in Texas. An hour or so more, and the terrain began to grow mountainous. The trees remained green—and tall, but in places the trees and bushes had grown so thick that it looked more like a roaring jungle than a storybook forest. Even so, Daria couldn't help but wonder why people would leave a beautiful country like this and move to west Texas.

It took her Dad a while to get to Coalton. Daria hadn't known what to expect, but she felt a little disappointed. Despite the fact that it was set in the mountains and was much greener than her part of Texas, her dad's home town was a lot like Highland. People lived here and some of them did stuff, but it wasn't like Midland. Instead, it looked a shabby and run-down.

"Why did they call it Coalton?" asked Quinn.

"This used to be a mining town," said Jake.

"What did they mine?" said Quinn.

"Coal," said Jake, "but the mines shut down just before I was born. The old man used to say that it was my fault."

"Like I had anything to do with it," Jake said sardonically. He was pleased with himself for the way he'd said it: this once he'd somehow managed to say that without raising his voice.

Coalton's downtown and shopping area was a mix of local shops, a few franchise stores, City Hall and a couple of churches. They left Coalton's main road, a mix of local shops and a few franchise stores, turned and found themselves going uphill to a street of older-looking wooden houses. A couple of the neighbors saw their car's out-of-state license plates and looked at them suspiciously. They stopped at the base of a small two-story house set on top of a hill, a stone wall keeping the lawn from spilling onto the sidewalk. The house looked older and smaller and shabbier than Jake remembered it; it also needed repainting.

"We're here," said Jake.

Everybody got out and then started walking up the steps to the front door.

"Well, I for one am glad it's summer," said Helen.

 _Technically, it's still late Spring_ , thought Daria. Summer solstice wasn't until June 21st.

"You're telling me!" Jake said with feeling . "I can't tell you how many times I shoveled that sidewalk!"

The family walked up to the steps and paused on the front doorstep. Daria watched as Jake ran the doorbell. A gray-haired woman that she'd only seen in photographs opened the door.

"Jakey!" said Grandma Ruth, "so good to see you! It's been so long!"

Daria was a little surprised at how short Grandma Ruth was. She was scarcely taller than she was. She always assumed that Grandma Ruth was as tall as her mother.

"Hi, Mom!" said Jake, hugging her.

"And this must be Helen, and your daughters."

"Well, come in, come in," said Grandma Ruth.

The Mad Dog's and Grandma Ruth's living room was slightly smaller than their living room had been back on Whirlwind Drive. The carpeting and furniture looked older and shabbier than the living room furniture at the old house. But if some of the stuff wasn't new, it looked very clean and tidy, except the area where the Mad Dog sat. There was an odor of cigarette smoke. Daria wondered if either Grandma Ruth or the Mad Dog was still smoking.

"Girls, this is your Grandmother Ruth and your Grandfather Mad Dog," said Jake.

Mad Dog Morgendorffer was a bit shorter than her Dad was, but he looked—old. He also looked like a man who'd been sick.

"So this is your eldest," said the Mad Dog. "Doesn't look a lot like you, Jakey, does she?"

"She's my daughter," said Jake flatly. Helen said nothing, but her eyes narrowed at Nathan's remark. Fortunately, the elder Morgendorffer decided not to needle him further.

"Say hello to your grandfather!" said the old man. "Call me Mad Dog."

"Hello," said Daria warily.

Quinn shifted a little and gave him a bit smile. "Hi!" she said.

"No doubt as to who the father of this one was," said the Mad Dog, looking at Quinn with a smile.

Quinn giggled. "Hi!" she said. "I'm Quinn!"

"I'm Mad Dog," said the Mad Dog.

Quinn giggled again.

"Oh," said Mad Dog. "And here's the widdle one!"

"Veronica, say 'Hello" to your grandfather," said Helen.

"Hi!" said Veronica. Mad Dog didn't know, but Veronica was already talking but she hadn't made up her mind about this old man whom her dad said was his father.

"Jakey, how was the trip up here?" asked Ruth.

"Pretty good," said Jake.

The grandparents, parents, and grandchildren sat down and began to discuss family gossip. Ruth brought up Nathan's heart attack, and Mad Dog grudgingly conceded that it had been a set-back, although he proclaimed that he was getting better. She then asked Jake if he was exercising and eating right. Jake conceded that he'd gotten behind on his exercise during the spring, but looked forward to taking early morning constitutionals. Jake brought up that conditions had gotten crowded on Whirlwind Drive and that they'd bought a new house on River Run Road in Highland. The Mad Dog asked Jake and Helen what they were planning to do with their old one and Helen said that they were going to rent it out until the real estate market got better.

They talked about jobs and friends. Jake told his parents about his job with the wholesalers, although Mad Dog asked him if he wouldn't like to be his own boss someday. Helen told them about her law career.

Ruth then asked the girls what they were up to. Daria talked about some of her friends, notably Farrah Dagworth, and that she'd enjoyed visiting Farrah's cousin Lara Penrick. The Mad Dog scoffed and said that one of the reasons his family moved to America was to get away from goat-raising, earning a dirty look from Daria.

Grandma Ruth fed them a home-cooked meal, and fed them kolaches for dessert that she'd made herself.

As the evening wore on, the Mad Dog realized that there was something strange about Jakey's eldest. He didn't know what it was. Whatever it was, the middle one didn't have it, even though she seemed to be the sort of girl that would keep a weak-willed father pacing the floor at nights. It took a strong hand to keep a wild girl in line. Jakey just wasn't the sort who'd come down hard when he needed to.

Mad Dog realized that he wasn't satisfied with his children. Ben had moved out west, had married, then got divorced. That first woman had gotten custody of their children, married someone else, and then changed their names. Ben had married again, but had no children with his second wife.

Evie had a couple of girls: neither of those would carry on the family name. He wished his children had done what his generation had done and stayed near their parents. But just like their mother, Natalie and little Evie had moved far away.

Jakey had always been a perennial disappointment, but Jake had done better than he expected. It irked him that he'd married such a strong-willed woman. He wondered if that was why he and Helen only had girls and no boys. If he'd been more of a man, maybe he'd have a son or two instead of three girls. There was something strange, something off about his eldest. If it hadn't been for the fact that she was clearly Jake's favorite, he'd swear that she wasn't his. Still, he could see that weird or not, she was definitely a Morgendorffer.

His heart attack had scared him. He wasn't sure how much time he had left, which was a shame because he'd love to live long enough to see what his granddaughters would become. Jakey's oldest was sharp as a pistol; a girl like that could go far these days, even if they couldn't back in the old country. The middle one would either marry well or get in trouble; he couldn't tell which. And the youngest one, she stumped him.

Jake was grateful that nobody could see his innermost thoughts. There were very few people with whom he shared his innermost thoughts and deepest fears. He'd learned that at home and he'd learned that again at Buxton Ridge. He'd unbent slightly with a couple of the guys at his Temple classes, and he'd opened up more with Rabbi Tallman. It was hard to share: he'd spent much of his life, even his hippie period, in the Old Man's shadow. Rabbi Tallman had gently suggested that Jake consider counseling; to now he'd been resistant, but maybe the rabbi had a point.

Thus far this trip hadn't proved as bad as he'd expected. What surprised him was how much everything had diminished. The house seemed smaller than he remembered, even though he'd already reached his full height when he'd last been there. Mom was about the same as always, but his Dad…his dad had shrunk. He still had his bullying mannerisms, but his voice had grown hoarse. The Old Man seemed to have diminished: Jake realized that he was now taller than his father and probably in better shape. His old man was no longer the great wind that had shaken little Jakey like a leaf and caused him to shake in fear. Now he looked like an invalid who'd had a heart attack and was no longer the cock of the walk he'd thought he was.

Mom's updates on the family were another revelation. Jake hadn't heard from his older brother and sister for years. He'd assumed that they'd gone out into the big wide world and made quiet successes of themselves while little Jakey had been floundering around, but was surprised to learn that he'd been wrong. His older siblings had had their own set of troubles. His older brother Ben was now living out west, divorced, but currently unmarried. He hadn't called back when Ruth tried to tell him about their father's heart attack. Evie had also married, divorced, but remarried again. She now lived in New Jersey.

His parents actually seemed to listen as he and Helen talked about their own lives. Despite his emotions concerning his father and his father's approval, he realized that he had a lot to be proud of. He'd married well, he had three daughters, and all three were doing well with life and doing well at school. And somehow, despite the Old Man's jibe, he didn't have the blow-up he'd feared if the topic turned to his oldest daughter.

His eldest daughter's true parentage was still a sensitive subject, though no longer the flashpoint it had been. It had been nearly four years since he'd confronted Helen with his suspicion that someone else had fathered Daria. They'd had a ferocious quarrel about it, so ferocious that the girls overheard it and Daria had been so upset that she'd moved into her cardboard playhouse rather than listen to him fighting with Helen. Their quarrel had been followed by a massive West Texas thunderstorm with bright lightning flashes and loud, booming thunder. Listening to the wind and sheets of rain drumming across the roof, he'd somehow realized that the kiddo had overheard them and was still outside. Shamefacedly, he went outside, pulled her out of her leaky box , dried her off, and put her to bed. As he told Rabbi Tallman last year, that was when he realized that it didn't matter who Daria's father was, she was HIS kid, every bit as much his kid as Quinn and Veronica: period, end of discussion.

The Morgendorffers made it an early evening. The Mad Dog was still an invalid, even if he was up and about and even driving again. Jake, Helen, and the girls were tired, despite the relatively short distance Jake and Helen traveled from their first motel to Coalton.


	43. Coalton Mining Museum

Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years. Coalton Mining Museum

DISCLAIMER: Daria is the creation of Glenn Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. Harry Potter is the creation of JK Rowling and is the property of JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. I own neither, and neither expect nor deserve financial compensation for this work of fiction. I am writing for my own pleasure and ego satisfaction.

Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years

Jake and Helen checked into a small motel near the city limits. It was after 9:00, but the manager was still in the office. The motel was an older design dating from the 1930's, with separate, individual units separated by car-ports. Fortunately, their unit had two rooms with a connecting door. He and Helen were in one room, the three girls in the other.

That night his dream had a very Alice-in-Wonderland flavor. He dreamed that he was back at Buxton Ridge Military Academy. Corporal Ellenbogen had given him an M-1 rifle, then marched him to the edge of the campus to shoot an ogre as part of his cadet training. His dream-self knew that ogres were at least fifteen feet high and resisted bullets almost as easily as they did bayonets. He wanted to cut and run, but he couldn't, not with Corporal Ellenbogen right behind him. Nor was Ellenbogen going to make it easy for him; he only issued Jake three bullets. Shaking in fear, he walked up to the firing line, nervously loaded the rifle and sighted on the ogre.

He sighted on the ogre's head, a good fourteen feet off the ground, fired, and missed. Ellenbogen gave a snort of disgust and said "Can't you do _anything_ right, Morgendorffer?" Jake tried again, but this time, the ogre was only six and a half feet tall. He aimed and fired; Corporal Ellenbogen gave another snort of disgust and told him that he had only one bullet left and that he'd better get it _right_ this time. Jake looked through the sight and saw that he shouldn't have missed; the ogre had shrunk. He chambered his last round, took careful aim again, noting that the ogre had now shrunk to where it was only two and a half feet high. He pulled the trigger, found that he'd left the safety on and took it off, then fired. Something scraping against the fly screen in the bathroom's tiny window woke him up before he learned whether he hit the ogre or not.

Jake called his parents the following morning to ask when he and his family should come over. He told his mother that he could come over as soon as he and the girls had breakfast, but his mother waved him off. He could come by with the family around noon, she said. He realized with dismay that he was stuck in his hometown without a plan.

He took Helen and the girls for a brief walk around the center of town, where they saw the small park and the Civil War and World War II commemorative statues. Daria looked at the Civil War statue with interest; it was the first time she'd seen a statue honoring the Union troops that had fought in the Civil War. The ones in Highland and Midland had honored Confederates.

The younger girls looked bored and Jake was about to give up and drive back to their motel to kill time until noon when he saw a sign outside what he still remembered as the old five and dime: "Mining Museum: Now Open!" Well, Coalton used to be a mining town, a lot of the kids he remembered from boyhood had family who'd been coal miners, he knew very little about coal mining except that miners went into the ground, dug it out, and it then got loaded onto freight cars. "Hey, I don't remember that when I was living here!" he exclaimed. "Let's go see it!"

Quinn grumbled about it, but offered no resistance as he crossed the street from where he'd parked the car to the mining museum. The first floor had several exhibits that dealt with the geology of the area: hundreds of millions of years ago, Coalton had been a tropical fern forest and the ancient trees had died and formed Coalton's coal deposits. There were then some displays showing old photographs of the old mines, the miners, and the trains and coal cars that had hauled the coal out to cities and towns in Pennsylvania and other states. A couple of the photographs showed Coalton as it looked nearly a century ago; Daria surprised herself by recognizing a couple of them from their family stroll through Dad's home town.

The former five and dime was old enough to have a basement, part of which had been converted into a display that portrayed the interior of an old-fashioned coal mine. The walls were dark and looked like someone had dug a hole in the ground; the ceilings were low and supported by wooden cross-beams. Small light fixtures strung together by long cables gave the display a dim light. Wooden pillars stood here and there, as if to keep the mine shaft's ceiling from caving in and trapping the miners. A pair of tracks and a couple of old coal cars completed the display; miners dug out the coal, loaded it into the coal cars, which were then moved back to the elevator shaft which hauled them to the surface. It looked like dark, dirty, dangerous work, even without the added dangers of mine gas and explosions.

Daria studied the display without noticing that she'd separated from her family. She found herself alone when she started hearing a strange tap-tap-tapping noise and feeling a growing, nameless dread. She'd brought a hand-bag and reached into it, drawing out an unsharpened pencil.

"You know that's not going to do you any good," said a tall, gawky-looking boy she'd seen earlier when she and her family had been looking over displays about individual miners and their family. "A pencil isn't going to hold it off. You need a _**real**_ wand for this sort of thing."

Daria looked at him and frowned. The boy was several years older than he was. She didn't like being talked down to, particularly by kids in their early teens, a class of people she thought weren't nearly as smart as they thought they were. She wondered if he thought he was older than she was or because he wore trousers.

"I'd have thought they'd have taught you that already," he said. "Where are you from, anyway?" Daria thought that the boy's sense of superiority was so strong that she expected it to puddle on the floor.

"I'm from Texas," she replied. "This is my Dad's home town."

"Well, like I said, for this sort of thing, you need a real wand," said the boy.

"Like I said," Daria replied, "I'm from Texas. They don't sell _real_ wands to nine year-olds." She began to get nervous. _What was this guy and what was his game?_ She didn't think anybody sold real wands to nine year-olds; people would notice, even in a hot spot for stupid like Highland.

That took a little starch out of Mister Know-It-All. "Oh, you're just nine," he said. "I guess you couldn't."

"Well, you've got good instincts, even if you're holding that pencil wrong."

He looked like he was about to say something else when a man's voice said "Samuel, where are you? It's time to get going!"

"Well," said the boy. "See you on the Mountain." He turned away and started walking towards the staircase. Daria heard his tread on the staircase and thought _Good Riddance_.

 _This was weird_ , she thought. _What the Hell did I just say?_ Daria knew she needed to get back to Mom and Dad, but she decided to play it smart and let this guy put some distance between them first.

-(((O-O)))-

Author's note: In case you were wondering who the tall, gawky boy was, that was Samuel Weaver, an Ilvermorny student who has just been outwitted by our bespectacled heroine in his one-and-only speaking part in Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years.


	44. Goodbye, Grandpa!

Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years FF Goodbye Grandpa

DISCLAIMER: _Daria_ is the creation of Glenn Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. _Harry Potter_ is the creation of JK Rowling and is the property of JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. I own neither, and neither expect nor deserve financial compensation for this work of fiction. I am writing for my own amusement and ego gratification.

Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years

Jake, Helen, and their two younger daughters were waiting at the museum's gift shop. Daria had drifted off somewhere. Jake wondered how she'd managed to do that even in someplace as small as the county mining museum, but she'd done it. He'd begun to worry when she walked through a doorway he hadn't noticed and said "Sorry, I went downstairs to look at the mine exhibit and lost track of the time."

"What mine exhibit?" said Ronnie.

Daria pointed at the doorway she'd just walked through.

"Oh," she said.

"Well, now that we're all here, let's go over to your parents'" said Helen.

The Morgendorffers left the museum, loaded into the rental car, then drove the short distance to Mad Dog's and Grandma Ruth's house. Daria wondered briefly about the weird boy, but let it go. In the meantime, Ronnie was drinking it all in, Quinn was acting a little bored, and Daria wondered what the surrounding countryside must be like.

Grandma Ruth welcomed them in and sat them down to a meal. Much of it looked heart-healthy and low-calorie, although Grandma Ruth did include carved chicken and turkey meat. Mad Dog looked disgruntled as Grandma Ruth handed him his plate. "Rabbit food," he grumbled.

"The Doctor says that you need to eat healthy if you want to get better," said Grandma Ruth.

Mad Dog muttered something that Daria didn't catch.

There was a knock on the door after everyone had finished eating, followed by the sound of keys, the front door unlocking, followed by a "Hi, Everybody!" Evie had driven in from New Jersey and had just now gotten there.

Daria had never seen Aunt Evie before. Aunt Evie was just a bit taller than Grandma Ruth. She looked like a mix of Quinn and Dad, although she was heavier than Mom. She had the same hair color that Quinn did, although hers was streaked with gray.

"Jakey!" she exclaimed. "Long time no see, Little Brother!"

"Hey, Sis!" said Jakey. The siblings hugged.

"I haven't seen you since high school," said Evie. "You're looking good, Little Brother."

Evie turned her attention to the rest of Jake's family, taking in the tall auburn-haired woman and the three little girls. "And this is Helen, and your kids?"

"Yes, I'm Helen," said Helen. "How do you do?"

"Wow, good looker!" she said. "I remember Dad saying that you looked like a pug-faced hippie chick. I'm Evie, Jakey's older sister."

"Pleasure to meet you," said Helen.

"And these must be your kids," said Evie.

"Yeah," said Jake. "This is Daria, my oldest, Quinn, my second oldest, and Veronica, the youngest."

"I'm your Aunt Evie, Jake's my younger brother."

 _We guessed_ , Daria thought but didn't say.

"So how long are you guys here for?" said Evie.

"Just a few days," said Jake. We came up to see Dad, but also to visit Helen's mother, so we'll be leaving for Virginia in a couple of days.

"Like it's been forever since I last saw you," said Evie. "It looks like you left that commune behind. What have you done since then?"

"Well, we moved to Texas and became permanent residents," said Helen. "I went to law school while Jake supported me. I tried to get a job in Austin after I graduated, but there wasn't much work there at the time. nobody wanted to hire me. I got what was a good job offer in Highland and we moved there. I'd already had Daria and Quinn. The job in Highland folded, then I went to work for a law firm in Midland. Then I had Veronica."

"Texas," said Evie. "You guys must like it there."

"Well, we live there," said Helen. "We'd like to come East. I've sent out feelers, but the head hunters don't think mine is worth taking."

"That's enough about us," said Helen. "Tell us about you."

"Well, I got married, then divorced, had two kids, and now I'm single again," said Evie. "I went back to school and finished college. I live in New Jersey and work as a part-time medical aide."

"You can talk to them later," said Mad Dog. "I'd like to take the girls down to the VFW Post and show them off."

"Where?" said Helen.

"The VFW Post," said Mad Dog. "I'd like to show them off."

Jake took a deep breath. This was going to be tough. He reached for Helen's hand under the table and squeezed it for good luck.

"Dad, can you drive?" asked Jake. "You did have that heart attack."

"Of course I can drive," Mad Dog said testily. "What sort of idiot question is that?"

Helen, Aunt Evie, and all three girls went on alert at Grandpa Nathan's change of tone.

"You worry too much, Jakey," the Mad Dog said disparagingly.

"Well, they are _my_ girls," said Jake. Helen was proud of Jake for his seeming calm when he said that, but she could tell that the calm was a thin, brittle mask.

"Of course he can drive," said Grandma Ruth.

Jake sat motionless, taking deep breaths. His eye caught his older sister's. He loved Mom, but he'd trust Evie's opinion more than he'd trust his Mom's defense of her husband. If she didn't agree, that was it, up he'd get, and off they'd go.

"He can drive, at least for short distances," said Evie. "It's not like you'd need to have him drive your kids to Pittsburgh or Philly, but he's good for short trips. The VFW Post isn't that far away; it's about ten minutes from here. They'll be fine."

Jake glanced at Helen. He wanted her agreement before he said anything.

She nodded. "All right," said Jake. "They can go. But Dad, Veronica's a little small and she needs a child's booster seat. We've got one in the rental car."

"Jakey, why don't you rest your feet and talk with Evie?" said Helen. "I'll help Nathan with that booster seat."

"Quite a woman you married," Evie said admiringly after Helen and Mad Dog went outside.

"I thought so too the first time I saw her," Jake said proudly. "I still do."

"I should have such luck the next time I go looking," said Evie.

The siblings looked at each other and said nothing.

After a moment, Jake said "Excuse me, Sis, I need to write something down. Daria, could you come to the kitchen with me?"

Daria got up and, wondering what her Dad wanted, followed him to the kitchen.

Jake walked over to the kitchen telephone. He was relieved to know that his Mom still kept scratch paper. He tore off a piece, then started writing down telephone numbers. A brief proof-check later, he handed them to his oldest daughter. "Daria," he said quietly. "Here's some phone numbers. Keep them safe, just in case." It was a little embarrassing trusting a nine year-old, but Jake had learned that his older daughter was more reliable than a lot of kids twice her age.

The Mad Dog and Helen came in a couple of minutes later. "Everything's all set!" said Mad Dog.

"Goodbye, girls!" said Helen. "Have fun!"

The Mad Dog opened his car door and made sure they buckled was gentle with Veronica and carefully buckled her in. He then drove them to the VFW Post. The VFW post was in an old white wooden building with an American flag flying from a flagpole and a roof that needed re-shingling. The parking lot was lumpy and had a couple of chuckholes.

The Mad Dog had a little trouble finding a parking place. "I forgot about the—darn—art show," he grumbled. He helped Veronica and her two older sisters out of the car and walked them to the door. Eyebrows went up as Mad Dog walked inside.

"Hi, Mad Dog," said a very large, muscular man whom even Daria recognized as having been too young to go to Vietnam. "Are you going to be on your good behavior?"

Mad Dog looked at the younger men. "I'll be good. I'd embarrass myself if I wasn't."

"That's Mitch," said Mad Dog, "the kid's sergeant-at-arms."

"Hello, Nathan, who are the girls?" asked Verna.

"These are my son Jakey's daughters," said Mad Dog. "This one is Quinn and the one with the glasses is Daria."

"Hi!" said Quinn, "I'm Quinn!" Veronica was a little more shy. "HI, I'm Veronica," she said.

The VFW Hall was a little crowded. Several of the veterans and what Daria supposed were their wives had set up tables showing art and handicraft. Despite her being only nine years old and beingfrom Highland, Daria suspected that none of the art and handicrafts were museum-quality . Most of the drawings, prints, and knick-knacks had patriotic themes, mostly showing prints of home life, parades, cheerleaders, and kids playing sports and games. An older man sold prints with martial themes. One set showed what looked like a large olive four-engine airplane with la big white star in a blue circle and with painted letters and numbers.

"Hello, Mad Dog," said the man. "Those some of yours?"

"They're my grandchildren," said Mad Dog. "This is Ross Martin, he was a waist gunner on a B-17 during the Big One."

Something drew Daria to the print. It wasn't the airplane, which must have been taking off; it was the green grass of the air field and the green landscape beyond it.

"Excuse me," said Daria. "I know that's a military plane, but was there anything important about that particular airplane?"

"That was _My Lucky Gal_. It was what they called a B-17," said Ross. "I was part of the air crew. I was a waist gunner when we flew on bombing missions."

"Oh," said Daria.

"Like it?" said Ross.

"Yes," Daria nodded.

"Tell you what, kid," said Ross. "I'm trying to sell the good ones, but you can have this one here. This one is a little crooked." He handed Daria a print much like the ones he displayed on his table, except it was a little crooked.

The Mad Dog continued to work his way around the artists' tables and another table where the veterans' wives had made sandwiches and snacks, paying little attention as to whether the people there liked him that much. His granddaughter Quinn was a big help; Quinn's charm not only worked on the aging veteran, but also on the other people in the hall. Quinn was a people person and a mistress of charm; people were willing to ignore their opinions about Mad Dog and let the little girl charm them.

Daria had found another artist. This one had made and printed up maps of an island Daria recognized as Sicily. The artistic cartographer had added squares and arrows showing the movement of British and American troops during the Sicilian campaign. The legend on the top of his prints read _Sicily: Operation Husky_ , while underneath the map were symbols of the US Army, the British Army, and a strange device showing three bare legs with a face in the middle of it. Something told her that might be important later, but she couldn't imagine why.

"What's that?" she asked.

"That's a map of Sicily," said the man at the table. "I was there in 1943. I'll bet you're wondering about that device in the middle. That's a triskelion. That's a symbol of Sicily. I thought people might like it instead of a big black dog."

Mad Dog chose that moment to hove into view with Quinn and Veronica in tow. "There you are," he said. "Gus, that's my son Jakey's oldest. "Daria, meet Gus Lehrman. He was in Sicily in 1943. Infantry. "

"Gus, this is Daria."

"Nice to meet you, kid," said Gus.

He turned his attention to Mad Dog. "Mad Dog, this girl is sharp."

"I can tell," Mad Dog replied.

Now that he'd found Jakey's oldest, Mad Dog made a few more rounds, then said it was time to go. He took them back out to the parking lot. The crowd had thinned out a bit, so it was easy to load Veronica into her booster seat. He opened the front passenger door. Daria got in and buckled herself in.

Daria summoned up her nerve and asked the Mad Dog what he did in the military.

"I was a pilot," he replied. "I was a pilot out in the Pacific during the Big One. I flew combat missions against the Japanese. I spent several years in the Air Force, then got called up again for Korea. I got shot down and then spent a couple of years in a POW camp."

"Mad Dog, what is flying like?" said Daria.

"Flying is like nothing else," said her grandfather. "When you rev up your engine, your plane starts moving, you pull back on the stick, you can feel the wings lifting your plane, you're off the ground, and you are flying."

"I don't know if I can describe it."

"That sounds neat, Grandpa," said Daria. "I want to fly someday."

The Mad Dog looked like he was going to say something, then changed his mind. It was if he looked past her and saw something that puzzled him for a moment, but not after he must have figured out what it was.

"You know, I bet you will someday," he said.

The Mad Dog returned home with the girls. They'd all had a good time and the Mad Dog relished the relative peace and quiet in his home. He still thought that Jakey should have gone in, but even with that wife of his, he hadn't done that badly. He let Ruth serve dinner, then turned on the television. Watching a ball game was a good way for them to maintain the peace.

His son and his family left after the ball game was over. That night, he lay next to his wife and thought over his day. All in all, it had been a pretty good one.

He thought about his granddaughters. He didn't think he'd last long enough to see them grow up. He'd ducked this bullet, but he doubted he'd duck the next one. This was probably the one and only time he'd ever see them: they lived in flippin' Texas for crying out loud, and it would be nice for the kids to have one good visit before he shuffled off.

Jake's oldest was going to be a straight-A student, if she wasn't already. His son's middle one was going to make him walk the floor at nights; he hoped that his daughter-in-law Helen could help Jake corral her if she tried to get too wild. As for his youngest…he sensed something weird about her. Whatever it was, Jakey's oldest daughter had it. Was he imagining things, or did he see the same sort of weird in Jakey's and Helen's youngest?

Jake and Helen had a good evening after they'd gotten back to the hotel. They'd talked with Evie and Ruth and Jake and Helen got updates as to what the siblings, inlaws, and nephews and nieces were up to. Ruth said that so far, this was the sort of visit she'd dreamed about: one where Nathan and Jakey could stay in the same house without blowing up at each other. Still, Ruth told Helen in private that she worried that something might touch off either Jakey or Nathan.

Jake had a little trouble falling asleep. The hotel had filled up since he and Helen had checked in. Jake could hear the couple next door getting frisky. _That was how it began_ , he thought, although he still had hazy memories of that inn they'd stumbled across in England eleven years ago.

 _You've not done so bad, Jake-O_ , he told himself before falling asleep.

The next morning, Mad Dog talked to Ruth in the kitchen. He said that maybe Jakey ought to take a break. They'd avoided fighting this time; but maybe they ought to have one more morning, then Helen and Jake could go down to Virginia to visit her mother.

Jake and Helen brought his grandchildren by to visit again later that morning. He and Jake looked at each other and sighed. He and his youngest child just couldn't keep the charade going. He wanted this once to pretend that they were a happy family that loved each other, but he could tell that there was too much lingering resentment.

"So Helen," he said, "Are you off to Virginia today?"

"Why, yes," said Helen, a little surprised by Nathan's question.

"Before you guys go, we have some presents for you," he said. "Daria, come here." He rose from his chair, went to the chest in a spare room and rooted around a while.

"I want you to have something," said the Mad Dog. He gave Daria an old woolen scarf.

"This is my special scarf," said the Mad Dog. "I wore it the first time I soloed when I was training to be a pilot. Promise me that you'll wear it if you ever take flying lessons."

Daria took the scarf and looked at it, then at Mad Dog. "I promise," she said solemnly.

The Mad Dog smiled, which surprised and pleased Daria.

Daria and Mad Dog walked out of the spare room and back to the living room.

"And I bet nobody else will have dolls with clothes like these," said Ruth. She'd given Quinn some fashion doll clothes that she said had been custom-sewn by a couple ladies at the local temple.

Veronica got a small hand-knitted sweater and scarf and was told how cute she was.

Grandma Ruth fussed, kissed, and hugged Daria, Quinn, Mom and even kissed little Veronica on the forehead. Mad Dog and Jake stood stiffly and shook hands, then Dad and Mom turned away and walked over to the rented car.

"Whew," said Jake after they closed the car door. "I'm glad that's over."

I'm surprised this visit went so well," said Helen. "Before we got here I worried that you and your father were going to come to blows like you almost did last time."

"We were all walking around on egg-shells and somehow none of them cracked," said Jake. "I don't know, maybe having the girls along calmed him."

"He did have that heart attack," said Helen.

"It was only a mild one," said Jake. "My old man is going to live forever out of sheer spite."

"That was a nice visit," said Helen. "Now let's go see my Mom."

"Your Mom isn't expecting us until at least tomorrow," said Jake. "Gettysburg isn't too far from here. Maybe we can stop by there."


	45. Outside on the benches

DAR: The Highland Years. Out on the Benches

Disclaimer: Daria is the creation of Glenn Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. _Harry Potter_ is the creation of JK Rowling and is the property of JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. I own neither, and neither expect nor deserve financial compensation for this work of fiction. I am writing for my own amusement and ego gratification.

Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years

Helen Morgendorffer sat with her husband and her three daughters on some wooden benches behind the small-town service station. The right rear tire of their rental car had begun losing air; they wouldn't have noticed it until it had gone completely flat if it hadn't been for Quinn demanding a potty break. The tire was low, but not completely flat. She'd thanked her lucky stars that they'd made it to a gas station before the tire rim began chewing its way through the tire. The attendant had clucked his tongue about the size of the nail and wondered why they hadn't noticed it earlier.

They might have remained indoors in the cool if it hadn't been for the obnoxious radio programming. An End-Times radio preacher had been ranting about imminent coming of the anti-Christ and that the mark on the Soviet premier's forehead was surely the Mark of the Beast. Helen found the preacher's delivery obnoxious and his voice grating. Helen's husband Jake, a Temple-going if not particularly pious Jew, stood up and walked out. Their children had followed him outside: Daria with a resentful glare, Quinn muttering an out-of-character "I wish he'd shut up," and little Veronica asking her why the man was so nasty. By the time the radio evangelist had finished enough sermonizing for a commercial break (blessed prayer cloths for $19.95 over and above $100 contributions to the radio preacher's so-called ministry), Helen realized that just who was doing the preaching, and that her law firm had dealt with him before.

Her law firm had done some pro-bono legal work on behalf of the disabled sister of a mentally-impaired woman who'd made a huge financial donation to Preacher Gravvet's organization. She remembered it not only because she found the preacher's actions and those of his attorney reprehensible, but also because it was one of the few times she's seen Mr. Bookman, a senior partner in her Texas law firm, get angry.

"Those people are shameless scam-artists!" he declared, his voice raised and his eyes flashing. "They should be ashamed of themselves!" The other partners and the associates stared at his pronouncement in astonishment; Mr. Bookman was a traditional church-goer, and socially and politically quite conservative, and he usually kept his opinions to himself while at work.

"Bull!" he said, still angry. "These people have been declaring the end of the world for centuries, and if it isn't one boogeyman, it's another! If it wasn't the Emperor Nero, it was Attila the Hun. If it wasn't Attila the Hun it was the Sultan of the Ottoman Empire. If it wasn't the Sultan it was the Pope of Rome, Kaiser Wilhelm of Germany, or Hideki Tojo. They repeat the same crap over and over, year after year, making the same bogus claims over and over and over again, and expect us to ignore their previous track records and to forget what they said last time around!"

"And they have the gall to call themselves men of God!" he continued. "Matthew 16 says that by their fruit shall you know them!" Helen was an inactive Methodist but didn't doubt for a second that Mr. Bookman knew his scripture. "And scamming the mentally infirm!" Mr. Bookman declaimed in disgust. "It's been a sin since Leviticus and that rascal has no moral claim to do so just because he calls himself a Preacher!"

"If and when Jesus returns, he will do so in his own time, and it won't be according to the time-table of some money-grubbing little con-men! Enough of these lies, who can believe honest and upright men and women who stand for the Christ?"

Somehow, they'd won their case, although the judge who'd presided over their trial had been ousted at the next election, supposedly for "being too liberal." Helen feared for the next person to get fleeced by the wolves in shepherds' clothing when they sought redress in the courts.

Helen made a half-smile as she remembered Mr. Bookman's uncharacteristic harangue. But Mr. Bookman wasn't here. Helen and her family were stuck in a small-town service station at the mercy of people who might or might not delay repairing her tire out of self-righteous spite if she told them how she really felt.

An hour and a half later, the serviceman finally got through patching their tire.

"Well, what do you think of our radio," he said, expecting compliments. "That Brother Gravvet is a righteous man of God, isn't he?"

 _Not that I've noticed,_ thought Helen, _and I have a much better knowledge of his track record than you do._

"That preacher still has that church of his, doesn't he?" she asked with deceptive pleasantness.

"He sure does," said the service station attendant.

"Good," Helen said tartly. "My children will continue in the United Methodist Church. I want _nothing_ to do with that man."

-(((O-O)))—

Moral of story: please don't use my stories as platforms for your proseltization. Even if you may think that Harry Potter is un-Christian, anti-Wiccan, un-Zoroastrian, or whatever, DON'T hijack the reviews to push your obnoxious messages. I have strong opinions about inappropriate times and places for religious discussions


	46. Gettysburg

_Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years_. Gettysburg

DISCLAIMER: Daria is the creation of Glenn Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. Harry Potter is the creation of JK Rowling and is the property of JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. I own neither, and neither expect nor deserve financial compensation for this work of fiction. I am writing for my own pleasure and ego satisfaction.

Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years

The Morgendorffers pulled away from the curb, turned left, then right, then turned left again and onto the main highway leading out of town. There was a sort of finality to this visit, and Daria wondered if she'd ever see Coalton again. All in all, while she thought Coalton had its interesting points, she felt closed in. No wonder Dad and Aunt Evie left.

It took several hours to get to Gettysburg: first having to get out of the mountains, then driving across the flatter Pennsylvania Dutch country. They arrived in the Gettysburg area around 3:30 in the afternoon, having stopped for lunch and at a chain motel to make reservations for that evening. Jake and Helen had learned that there was nothing available either in Gettysburg, York, or in Frederick, but the affiliate in Lawndale had vacancies. They'd have to take a detour: Lawndale was off the major highway leading down to Lillian Barksdale's farm in the Virginia horse country, but Jake and Helen hoped that the detour wouldn't take too long.

Later on, Daria would tell different stories about her first trip to Gettysburg, depending on her audience. When she was talking to Muggles and other people lacking magic, she'd talk about the boredom and frustration as her parents slowly drove the congested roads around Gettysburg proper, hoping to beat out dozens of other tourists looking for the odd parking place to free up so they could get out, stretch their legs, and have something to eat. As it was, they were lucky. They found a parking place after only thirty minutes of circling. She also talked about the heat and humidity: Gettysburg was a lot more humid than Highland, and all three girls felt it when they opened the car doors and stepped outside.

When talking with Muggles and wizarding folk, Daria would also talk about the men, women, and children who dressed up in military uniforms and civilian clothing that people were likely to wear during the year of the battle. There were men wearing Union and Confederate army uniforms, although Daria knew that they would have been mortal enemies back in 1863 and would not have been peacefully standing on the sidewalks. Helen told the girls that one of their ancestors, a William Barksdale from Mississippi, had commanded something called a brigade and had died during the battle. He hadn't died in town but had died at a farmhouse a few miles away. Nevertheless, even saying that much was enough to set off the ghosts.

Daria was the one to hear them first.

"Excuse me, Miss," said a ghost with a Deep South accent, "I'm trying to find General Barksdale." Daria saw that he wore the ghostly remnants of a Confederate uniform.

"I'm sorry," said Daria, "but I don't know where he is."

"Your pardon, Miss," said another ghost, "but do you know the General's whereabouts?"

"No," said Daria. "We just got down here. My folks drove down from Coalton a couple of hours ago."

A third ghost shimmered in the shadows. "Young lady, did I hear you say that you say that you knew where General Barksdale is at? I'm trying to rejoin my company."

"No," said Daria, feeling increasingly alarmed. She'd dealt with ghosts in Highland, but the ones down there were far less pushy and accepted that things had changed since the cattle drives and the Wild West days.

"I have important dispatches for the general," said another, better-dressed ghost. "I must see him."

"I can't tell you," said Daria, beginning to lose her cool. "I can't find him."

Helen had been quietly soaking in the atmosphere of Gettysburg town with her husband, but overheard her daughter's distress while talking with not one but several someones.

"Excuse me, Jakey," she said, letting go of his arm and turning around and walking back to where Daria was standing on the sidewalk. Her face turned to anger as she took in what was going on.

"You!" she said to one ghost. "You!" she said to another ghost, "You and you!" she said, addressing the other two ghosts. "Leave my little girls alone!" she said dangerously.

"But Ma'am, these dispatches are important," began the fourth ghost.

"BACK OFF!" shouted Helen. "General Barksdale is DEAD! He's buried in Mississippi, and the war is OVER! LEAVE MY CHILDREN ALONE!"

Jake's eyebrows rose from a few feet away. Helen was standing next to Daria, seemingly shouting at nothing. _What on earth had gotten into her?_

If Jake didn't get it, the ghosts did. They backed away, a couple of them murmuring "Your pardon, Ma'am," before fading out of sight.

Daria looked at her mother in astonishment. "You can see them too?" she said.

"Sometimes," said Helen. "I try to ignore them."

-(((O-0)))—

Helen glanced around with a frown. "I don't see any more of them," she said. "Do you?"

"No, Mom," said Daria. "I think you ran them off."

"I didn't think about ghosts when I agreed with your dad's decision to come here," she said, "and I suppose I should have. A lot of people died here back in 1863 and I suspect that more than a few of them think they've got unfinished business. I'd like to stay here a little longer and see the town for your Dad's and your sisters' sakes, but I'm going to get your Dad to leave if the ghosts start gathering around again. Let me know if they do."

"Yes, Mom," said Daria.

Daria didn't have to alert her mother. Most of the ghosts kept their distance, at least for the next hour, and the Morgendorffers were able to see a bit of Gettysburg proper, the memorials to the battle mixed in with the present-day town and the souvenir shops. They then loaded into the rental car and drove south. Helen made Jake pull into the driveway leading to a couple of buildings south of the old town center.

"Girls, I think you ought to get out and take a look at those buildings over there," said Helen, gesturing at the two buildings. Daria saw a building that looked like a converted farm house and another structure that looked like some sort of converted out building.

"OK," said Daria. _Those buildings must have had some importance_ , she thought. _Mom wouldn't have made Dad stop here for no reason._

"What's so special about those buildings?" asked Quinn.

"That's the Joseph Himmelbaugh farm house," said Helen. "That's where your ancestor William Barksdale died during the Battle of Gettysburg. He'd been wounded and taken there. The farmhouse had been turned into a field hospital and he died there before the battle was over."

"Oh," said Quinn.

Helen and the three girls stood by the side of the car looking at the former farm house. It was now a Park headquarters. A girl dressed in a Park Ranger's uniform walked over to their car and told Jake "Sir, you're going to have to move. You're not allowed to park here and you're blocking the driveway."

"I know," said Jake from behind the steering wheel. "I'm letting my wife show our children where their ancestor died. We'll be on our way in a minute."

The young Ranger walked over to where Helen and her daughters were standing.

"Ma'am," she said. "You're going to have to…"

"I know," said Helen. "I'm Helen Barksdale Morgendorffer. My ancestor William Barksdale was a Confederate general and died in the Himmelbaugh farmhouse. We're about ready to be on our way."

"Oh," said the Ranger. She paused in thought, wondering what to do. Clearly this family wasn't just a bunch of casual tourists. They actually had connections to the battle.

"Well, if you're a descendant, I don't see why you can't linger for a couple of more minutes," she said.

She thought it over some more. "I've got a better idea," she said. "Why don't you park your car in one of the spaces and come inside? There's not really much to see, but you can say you've been there."

-(((O-O)))—

After leaving the Himmelbaugh farmhouse, Helen and Jake drove their car onto one of the parkways to a site Daria later remembered as the Devil's Den. The place looked remarkably calm and peaceful. It was hard to imagine that it had been a place of awful carnage in the first couple of days of 1863. The family stood quietly looking over the site; the only noise came from other tourists and the not-so-distant sound of other people's automobiles. Unlike the Himmelbaugh farmhouse and the streets of Gettysburg, Daria felt no ghosts there, but she found the site disturbing despite the present-day peace and relative quiet.

There was still one last place Jake wanted to visit: the Gettysburg Tower. The Gettysburg Tower loomed like an eyesore at the edge of the battlefield. It was a recent addition; it wasn't actually within the Park itself, it was on private property. It had been roundly denounced both by neighbors and preservationists as an architectural monstrosity and an affront to the memory of those who had fought and died during those bloody days in early 1863 before and during its construction, but being on private land, nobody had been able to stop it from going up. Despite its reputation as an eyesore, it supposedly had good views of the battlefield.

The Morgendorffers pulled into the parking lot, now half-empty. It was nearing sunset and Jake frowned when he spotted a sign saying that the tower would close in less than half an hour. Jake looked at the tower. It was ugly as sin. He wondered who put it up and why the Park Service allowed it to continue standing.

The family got out of the sedan and made their way towards the entrance.

Helen saw the sign showing the hours of admittance and frowned.

"Jakey, we're cutting this awful close," she said. "We might not be able to get in."

"Well, we ought to try," said Jake. In spite of their doubts, Jake and Helen led their children up to the ticket window.

Their worst fears seemed confirmed by the first words the man at the ticket window said to them: "Sir, Ma'am, we're going to be closing shortly. Maybe you can come back tomorrow."

"We won't be here," said Jake. "We'll be in Virginia."

Something about Jake's voice caused the attendant to react. He glanced at Jake, did a double-take, then stood there without saying anything.

"Jake?" he said. "Jake Morgendorffer?"

"Yeah," said Jake. The attendant looked familiar, but Jake had difficulty placing him. Someone from Middleton? He didn't think so.

"Jack Cummings," said the attendant. "We were cadets at Buxton Ridge."

If Jack was hoping for a positive reaction, he didn't get it. Jake stood motionless, then started to take long, controlled, breaths. In the meantime, Jack found himself facing a deep frown of disapproval from Helen and an even deeper look of disapproval from the oldest kiddo.

Jack could hear his sponsor almost as if he was standing there and talking in his ear: _"Made amends whenever possible except when to do so would injure them or others."_

He had to keep going. "I know we put you through Hell at the Ridge," he said, "and I've long wanted to apologize for my part in giving you a hard time. I've gone through some rough times since then, and I'm trying to clean up the messes I made over the years. I've been clean and sober for nine months now and I want to wake up sober tomorrow morning."

Jake continued his breathing a couple of minutes longer as his fight-or-flight reflexes began to diminish and he could think a little more clearly. Something inside of him said that Jack must be in some sort of Twelve Step recovery program and that he was trying to make amends.

Some tourists came down the steps, followed by a larger party of less-adventurous visitors exiting the elevator.

"Tell you what, Jake," Jack said quietly. "I can run the elevator up to the top observation deck, you and your family can look at the sunset and the battlefield, then I can let you guys out and you can be on your way."

Jake thought about refusing on principle but saw that Helen was giving him a quirky look. His daughters said nothing, but Jake could almost hear his daughter Daria speaking up and saying "Go for it, Dad!"

"You got yourself a deal, my man!" said Jake.

-(((O-O)))-

Daria looked down at the battlefield. Below, it was peaceful farm country, howbeit farm country bisected by cars and highways. She stood there looking at the battlefield when a strange feeling overtook her. She looked down at the battlefield and saw that the view below her changed. The sky above her seemed to grow darker while the stars grew brighter. But the fields below had made a much bigger change. Gone were the bright lights of the farmhouses and streetlights and the automobiles traversing the roads leading to and from Gettysburg. Instead, there were two distinct lines of dim campfires below, as if two opposing armies had camped below the tower.

The vision only lasted a minute. The vision put her off-balance. _I'd better get down_ , she told herself.

"Mom, somebody, could you give me a hand?" she said. "I feel a little dizzy."

Helen gave her a hand, and Daria stepped down the steps.

"Are you all right, Sweetie?" said Helen. "Do we need to go to a Doctor?"

"I'm just a little dizzy," said Daria. "All I need to do is sit down for a bit and I'll be fine."

Meanwhile, Quinn and Veronica had been taking turns looking at the battlefield. Quinn spent a short time looking over the landscape, grew visibly bored, then turned away.

She saw her oldest sister sitting down on a bench and caught her older sister's eye. Daria looked back at Ronnie and wondered. Did the June Bug see something special that everybody else missed?

The Morgendorffers left the tower a few minutes later, Jake trying to be gracious as he could with Jack Cummings. It was awkward: Cummings had been one of his tormentors at Buxton Ridge, but was trying to make amends. The sun had set. It was now twilight and growing dark.

"Let's go to this Lawndale place," said Jake.

Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years* Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years* Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years

Author's note: As my more observant readers have probably noted, I've slightly bent JK Rowling's _Harry Potter_ canon. I've gifted this alternate-universe Daria Morgendorffer with what is often called "The Second Sight," which not only gives the gifted the ability to peer into the future, but also see hidden parts of the present, and also into the past. So if any reader was wondering why the lights seemed to go out over the Gettysburg battlefield, little Daria was seeing the Gettysburg battlefield as I imagined it was after sunset in very early 1863.


	47. Gettysburg Reverbrations

Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years. Gettysburg Reverbrations

DISCLAIMER: _Daria_ is the creation of Glenn Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. _Harry Potter_ is the creation of JK Rowling and is the property of JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. I own neither, and neither expect nor deserve financial compensation for this work of fiction. I am writing for my own pleasure and ego satisfaction.

And if you have money to burn, give some to charity, disaster relief, food and clothing banks, and aiding refugees. It's good karma and you'll feel better.

This chapter is rated "T" for language and adult situations. There is nothing glamorous about bulimia.

Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years

Near Hogsmeade, Scottish Highlands  
November 1993

They met outside the village this time. Unlike second- and first-years and certain unlucky souls like Harry Potter, Daria had signed permission forms and could go off-campus. She'd brought cheese, sausage, and dried fruit with her from school, along with Muggle-style vitamin pills. She'd tried to cover her tracks by pretending to be a bulimic and had forced herself to throw up several times to make her act look more convincing. She worried that her bulimia could change from pretence to the real thing.

She watched as her father began tearing into one of the sausages.

"So, you're telling me that Ron Weasley's pet rat is actually an animagus named Peter Pettigrew?" said Daria skeptically.

"That's exactly what I'm telling you," said Sirius.

Daria wasn't exactly sure as to whether or not she believed Sirius or not, but his explanation was more than plausible. She'd actually met the varmint, but assumed that he was just an old, fat rodent. How long had the Weasleys had Scabbers, anyway?

"So your attack on the entrance to Gryffindor tower on Halloween was actually an effort to capture or kill Pettigrew," said Daria.

"Yes," said Sirius. "I wanted to kill that traitor with my own hands."

"And I suppose your encounter with the door knocker on Ravenclaw Tower was your attempt to visit me," said Daria.

"Now that I think about it, it was a little over-dramatic," Sirius said ruefully.

"You know, you scared the Hell out of a lot of people when you did that," said Daria.

"I know," said Sirius. "I didn't mean to."

Daria thought about her next comment. She'd learned that Sirius' stay in Azkaban had left him with serious issues. She'd have to make her next suggestion with as much care as she used when talking to Jake. _My father figures are all head cases_ , she thought sardonically.

"Did you ever hear of a William Barksdale?" she asked.

"There was a William Barksdale a year below me at Hogwarts," said Sirius. "He was a bum-licking little git."

Daria chuckled in spite of herself. During her couple of years at Hogwarts, he'd discovered that she didn't think much of her English Barksdale cousins. The dislike was mutual, although Daria believed that they started it first.

"Different Barksdale," she said.

"There was his uncle," said Sirius, "except he was at school the same year as my loving father."

"Actually, I'm talking about General William Barksdale, one of _my_ ancestors," she said.

"I'd never heard of him," Sirius conceded.

"General Barksdale was a military officer in the secessionist Army during the American Muggles' Civil War," said Daria. "He liked to make charges and had the habit of leading them himself."

"He sounds like a Gryffindor," said Sirius, smiling. "But it sounds like you have something else to say to me."

"During his last charge, he was mounted on horseback and mortally wounded while his troops were attacking enemy positions," said Daria. "I've been down on glorious frontal assaults ever since I found out about how he died."

"How did he die?" asked Sirius.

"Small arms and a cannon ball," said Daria. "A classic case for Not Being Seen. I think that being sneaky would work much better."

Daria saw that her father missed the Monty Python reference. "That's rather Slytherin of you," said Sirius, a trace of disapproval in his voice.

"Which as may be," said Daria.

"But If what you say about Peter Pettigrew is true," she continued, her eyes narrowing, "I don't want him to see what's coming when I take him out of circulation. He's already betrayed the Potters, he's betraying the Weasleys, and I don't feel like being chivalrous. Chivalry is an unaffordable luxury when you're five foot four and you aren't a champion duelist."

"Is that the lesson you learned from your ancestor?" said Sirius.

Daria looked him square in the eye without flinching.

"Yeah," she said.


	48. Welcome to Lawndale!

DAR Highland FF Welcome To Lawndale

DISCLAIMER: Daria is the creation of Glenn Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. Harry Potter is the creation of JK Rowling and is the property of JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. I own neither, and neither expect nor deserve financial compensation for this work of fiction. I am writing for my own pleasure and ego satisfaction.

Satisfy the author: write a nice review!

Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years

Welcome to Lawndale!

The Morgendorffers arrived in Lawndale after sunset. They'd left US highway 15 at Emmitsburg and drove southeast on Maryland highway 140, Jake vocally and Helen silently hoping that they were still on the road to Lawndale and hadn't managed to overshoot their destination and would arrive at some dead end by Chesapeake Bay. Somewhere southeast of someplace called Stumptown they were rewarded for their perseverance with a highway sign saying that Lawndale was less than fifteen miles away. Both Helen and Jake breathed easier; they wouldn't have to spend the night in their rented car instead of hotel beds. Road-weary and emotionally drained by the events of the last day, Jake pulled into the driveway of Lawndale's Best Eastern Hotels affiliate and hoped that they'd have rooms for that evening.

After checking in and then unloading their luggage, Helen and Jake knocked on the girls' room and asked them to freshen up and get ready for dinner. Daria, Quinn, and Veronica were all feeling tired and cranky but hungry. They quietly loaded themselves or were loaded, Veronica needed her booster seat, into their rented sedan. Jake got back out onto the Taneyville Road to see what was open.

To their dismay, they discovered that everything was dark on one side of the Taneyville Road, including what looked like several popular fast-food restaurants. Fortunately for the hungry family, the other side of the road had illumination and two places looked open for business.

"Let's try this place first," said Jake, gesturing with his head at Doug and Chet's, a prosperous-looking restaurant with a large, brightly-lit sign. Helen looked agreeable, and Jake found a just-vacated parking place not too far from the door.

Tired and hungry, their hopes raised by the sound of laughter and conversation and the smell of food, they went inside. Their plans for an evening meal were quickly dashed by the host standing behind the cash register.

"Sorry, folks," he said. "We're closed for this evening. Private party. We'll welcome you tomorrow and even give you coupons for free meals for your trouble, though."

"We have been on the road since early this morning and I have three hungry little girls," said Helen, fixing the host with a glare. She watched as the host began to look uncomfortable.

Helen noted the host's discomfort with satisfaction. She hoped that his conscience was bothering him.

"We saw that the restaurants on the other side of the road were all dark," said Helen.

"Power failure," said the host. "Beyond our control," he added. "That part of town is in the dark until they straighten out the transformers."

Still looking uncomfortable, he glanced around the entrance to the restaurant as if looking for someone he hoped wasn't watching. Giving a sigh of relief, he leaned forward and said "Look, I'm really sorry about your fix, and I'm not supposed to be saying this, they and us being competitors and all, but that place at the other end of the strip is open and I think it's just the ticket for small kids. I bet they'll love it."

"What's it called?" Helen asked skeptically.

"It's called Pizza Forest," said the host.

-(((O-O)))—

The Morgendorffers were tired after their drive from Coalton, their adventures at Gettysburg, and dinner at Pizza Forest. Still, a good night's sleep did wonders—at least for some people. Veronica woke early ready and rested to have a new day while Quinn was trying to rouse herself and her oldest sister Daria was trying her hardest to remain asleep.

Veronica wondered what they'd do today. Yesterday had been full of ups and downs. She'd had to say goodbye to Grandpa Mad Dog and Grandma Ruth, which made her sad. She then endured the drive to that Gettysburg place, then finally arrived here at this motel. As far as Veronica was concerned, yesterday ended on a high note: she _liked_ Pizza Forest. It wasn't just the people in the animal costumes, the games, and the fact that there had been loads of kids near her age, but also that she learned some new songs. She'd heard "Row, Row, Row Your Boat," "The Farmer in the Dell," and "Itsy Bitsy Spider," but she'd never heard "Three Blind Mice" or "Go Tell It Rowlie" before. It was also a little fun to see her so-serious sister have to unbend a little and the look on her Mom's face when she got into singing "Three Blind Mice." She'd actually seen a couple of mice in Highland, but she didn't plan to chase them with a carving knife.

Still, sharing a bed with her sisters could be a nuisance, especially when she was the girl in the middle. She'd learned that she woke up a lot earlier than Daria or Quinn. And she had to go potty. She first tried to wait until either Daria or Quinn woke up, but learned that was hopeless. She'd have to go over them whether they were sleeping or not. She crawled out of the sheets, crawled over a sleeping Quinn, then went to the bathroom and did her business.

That was the easy part. Now came the hard part, getting back into bed. It was easy at home: she had a little step box that made it a cinch. Here, though, she needed a sister's help to get back under the sheets.

She thought about her choices. Trying to wake up Daria could be hopeless; she decided to use Quinn instead. She walked around to the other side of the bed and gave Quinn a tug.

"Hunh?" said Quinn. "Wha'? Stacy?"

"No, me," sad Veronica. "Could you give me a hand?"

Maddenlingly, Sis wasn't wide awake. It took Quinn a minute or two to wake up enough to help out, but she did.

"OK, wha' ever," said Quinn, and helped her little sister get back under the sheets.

It looked like both of her older sisters were going to be sleepy-heads. Veronica sighed, She realized that should have grabbed the TV remote. If she couldn't wake up her sisters, she could watch television while they slept. She decided to give up and go back to sleep.

Veronica snuggled in for a couple of moments and was drifting off to sleep when she heard Mom knocking on the door to the connecting room and saying "Girls, it's time to wake up! We've got another big day today and we need to get moving!"

-(((O-O)))-

The Morgendorffers were dressed and down in the hotel's dining room by 8:30. Helen looked at the buffet selection and frowned. She was not impressed. She wanted her daughters to have cereal, but the selection was abysmal. If the cereal wasn't laced with chocolate, it had enough sugar to keep half-a-dozen pre-schoolers bouncing off the walls until midnight.

She wasn't the only one who wasn't impressed. Daria warily eyed the pitcher of milk on the counter. Oh, it did look nice and pretty, but she didn't trust it. Daria had learned back in pre-school not to trust milk by the pitcher. Rather more often than not you wouldn't get what you hoped for. Now it had to pass her taste test before she'd drink it or put it on her cereal.

She poured a little in a drinking cup, took a sip, then gave if a frown of disapproval. "This milk is sour," she said.

"Oh, Daria," said Quinn. "You're probably just exaggerating."

"Here, _you_ take a sip," said Daria.

Quinn took a sip and made a face.

"Euwww!" she said.

"What's wrong, girls?" said Helen.

"Sour milk!" the girls chorused.

THAT got Helen's attention. Daria and Quinn seldom agreed on anything these days, but when they did, it was worth taking note. She then took a sip. This milk _was_ sour.

Helen walked up to the hotel staffer that was holding down the breakfast area.

"Excuse me," she said, "but your milk is sour."

"I'm sorry, ma'am," said the attendant. "We're about out and that's all the milk we've got."

"I don't want any trouble," said Helen, implying that she _would_ make trouble if she wasn't satisfied, "but I _do_ hope the dining area will still be open half an hour from now. We're going to go out and get some milk and cereal," she said.

The attendant looked at Helen and decided that this lady could be trouble. She'd keep the breakfast area open a little longed.

The Morgendorffers got into the car to look for a grocery store. They first drove up and down the Taneyville Road looking for a familiar brand name. It didn't take Jake long to realize that United and HEB didn't have stores on the Eastern Seaboard. Jake saw that there was what looked like a locally-owned grocery store called Lloyd's. He'd pull in there if he couldn't find anything better, but he'd go there if he couldn't find a major chain. He quickly found himself heading towards the center of town and realized that he'd run out of luck. Lloyd's it was then. He turned around and headed back in the direction he came. He saw the sign for Lloyd's, turned right, pulled into the parking lot and found a space about halfway between the street and the grocery store's entrance.

Jake and Helen got out of the car, then helped their children get out of the car and get their feet on the ground. Little Veronica was the only one who really needed help; Daria and Quinn were old enough to unfasten their seatbelts and unlock the doors themselves. Jake spotted an unattended shopping cart out in the parking lot with a child seat, rolled it over next to their rental car, and seated Ronnie. Together, they crossed over to the store's entrance and walked in, a mechanical swinging door easing their entry.

"Daria, Quinn," said Jake, "You two guys track down the cereals and pick out the brands you want. Mom and I will take Ronnie and we'll get some milk."

"Got it," said Daria. Daria was not the road-warrior her Dad was, but learned to read the signs above the aisles to learn where things were. Things were not where they were supposed to be; Lloyds must have moved some of their stock around and somebody hadn't matched the signs with the new arrangements. It took a little trial-and-error to find where Lloyd's had the breakfast cereals. They were on aisle five instead of aisle four. Both Daria and Quinn started scanning the shelves for cereals they liked. They found some on the upper middle shelves, which to Daria's consternation were just out of her reach.

 _Damn_ , she thought.

An balding man wearing shorts and a tie-dye tee shirt lost in thought walked past them without stopping, a teenaged boy trailing behind him.

Daria gave the Dad a passing glance, then looked the boy over. _Family of hippies or ex-hippies, but he looks tall enough to reach the shelves,_ she thought.

"Excuse me," she said to the boy. He was kind of cute: tall, thin, dark-eyed and dark-haired. "Could you give us a hand?"

"Sure," he said. He looked at the two girls with amusement: one auburn-haired with eyeglasses, the other with dark eyes and a more typical red-head. "What do you need?"

"Could you pull down a couple of boxes of Rife and Special Ms?" said the auburn-haired girl. "It's kind of hard for me to reach them."

He looked down at her. The two girls were on the short side and probably would have trouble pulling down what they wanted.

"No problem," he said. He reached up and pulled down a box of each. "Is that enough?"

"You might want to get another couple of boxes just to be safe," said the auburn-haired girl.

"No sweat," said the boy. He pulled down an additional box of each.

"Thank you," said the auburn-haired girl. The girl's younger sister echoed her older sister with a "Thanks" and a smile. She was very cute, but he was glad the younger one was much younger than he was. His older brother Ron said that those kinds of girls could be trouble.

The boy's father stopped at the end of the aisle, looked back, and saw that he'd lost his son to two young girls over by the dry cereals.

"Trent," he said, then gestured with his head.

"Sure, Dad," said the boy, who was apparently named Trent.

Now armed with breakfast cereal, Daria and Quinn set off to find their parents. Daria guessed they'd either be at the dairy section or near the cash register.

Aisle Five was almost a half-aisle; there was a space between shelving where customers could cut over to Aisle Six. Quinn looked down aisle five and saw trouble: a large woman in a shopping cart was slowly moving up the middle of the aisle, effectively blocking it. Quinn cut over, then turned left.

She started down Aisle Six and almost collided with a taller girl near her age, a brunette with a darker complexion.

"Oh, sorry!" said Quinn.

The brunette looked back at Quinn disdainfully. "Like don't you know where you're going?" she said.

"No I didn't," said Quinn. "I'm from out of town."

The tall girl looked at her and made a face: _hicks from the sticks who_ naturally _didn't know what was what or what was where_.

 _What a snob,_ thought Daria, making her own judgment call.

"So like where are you from?" asked the brunette.

"We're from Highland, Texas," said Quinn. Daria was a little surprised that the brunette didn't pick up the detail. Quinn was wearing a girl's tee that had a Texas flag and a "Highland Pride!" slogan. Was the tall girl dense or something?

"So where's the dairy section?" Daria cut in.

"Like over in the back of the store to the left," said the brunette. She and Daria exchanged glares.

The two Highlanders set off down Aisle Six, made a left turn at the end of the aisle, saw that they'd missed Mom and Dad, then walked up to the front of the store to wait by the cash register. They didn't wait long; Mom and Dad came out of another aisle with what looked like several cartons of milk and what Daria suspected was some of Dad's herbal tea. He occasionally brewed and drank some after his Temple classes.

Daria thought that they'd be quickly in and out of here, but learned that she was doomed to disappointment. The express line was closed, as were the other three lines, and a nervous-looking teenaged boy held down the one remaining cash register all by himself.

She recognized the people in front of her: the balding guy in the tie-dye tee-shirt and the teenaged boy. They had someone else with them; a brunette girl with piercing blue eyes who looked about her age. She looked at Daria and it was like there was an instant connection.

The line stalled as the teenaged boy put in an anguished plea for help from the manager.

"This always happens," said the new girl. "Mrs. Puckett always comes in here with a stack of out-of-date coupons. She specializes on picking times when only one cash register is open."

Daria nodded. "That happens where I come from too," she said.

"So where are you guys from?" said the taller girl. She looked Daria over, saw no tell-tales, then took in Quinn's Highland Pride tee shirt. "Texas?"

"Got it in one," said Daria. "Can't you tell by the boots and the spurs?" She was actually wearing sneakers.

"Nah, it's because you talk funny," said the tall girl.

 _This kid was_ good _,_ thought Daria. She might have taken offense if the girl had used a different tone of voice, but the way she said it was just casual banter.

"Did you guys just move here?" she said.

"Nope, we're just passing through," said Daria. "Family vacation. We visited my Dad's parents for a couple of days, now we're on our way to visit my Mom's mom."

At that moment the line moved forward as the manager approved some of Mrs. Puckett's coupons, rejected others, made the cashier bag up her purchases, and let her go on her way. It then stalled again when the next person in line asked for a carton of cigarettes, which was kept in another part of the store.

"Sounds like an adventure," said the new girl. There was a trace of wistfulness in her voice. "I'd like to get out of Lawndale."

"I'd like to get out of Highland," said Daria, "but I go back after this trip is over."

"Better you than me," said the new girl. Daria wanted to get mad at the new girl but couldn't. _Another good zinger,_ she thought. Not many people in Highland were that quick-witted. Gloria, Gail, and Farrah were, but not many other kids in Daria's age set.

The line moved up and the checker started ringing up the tie-dyed shirted man's purchases.

"Looks like we're gonna be out of here soon," said the new girl. "Pity you guys aren't staying. Nice to meet you." She put her hand out.

Daria took it. She could like this girl.

"Daria Morgendorffer," she said.

"Jane Lane," said the new girl.


End file.
